Strangers in Las Vegas
by witandwaldorf
Summary: A vicious round of Truth or Dare is a staple at Blair Waldorf's annual sleepover. With the festivities taking place in Las Vegas this year, the stakes are higher than ever but Blair always comes out victorious. Until Serena levels her with a dare that might not be quite so achievable… Unless Blair wants to return to NYC with a ring on her finger and a stranger for a husband.
1. One

**AN: I probably shouldn't be starting a new fic but I was hit with this idea and wanted to write it all before I lost the momentum. I have 90% of this story written and it looks like it'll be about 20k words. I just need to write the last chapter :) So it should have pretty regular/frequent updates.**

 **A profuse thank you to my wonderful beta, asadair, is in order as she not only helped to make this chapter more colorful but also to fine-tune it.**

 **Thank you for reading this new story, I hope you'll all enjoy this trope-y premise!**

 **PS. I made an aesthetic for this fic which can be seen on AO3 or tumblr (thedairarchives).**

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As Blair Waldorf waves off another suffocating cloud of smoke and swivels around on her bar stool to scowl at the tattooed offender, she contemplates her own sanity. Letting her best friend, Serena van der Woodsen, choose the location of this year's annual sleepover had clearly been a massive lapse in judgment. Her eyes shift over to where Serena is brushing a strand of blonde hair from her shoulder coyly as she flirts with the businessman who's been buying her drinks all night. Blair has half a mind to remind Serena that the main event of the annual sleepover starts in approximately twenty minutes but thinks better of it. If she gives her too much time to think, she'll come up with a dare that might actually be challenging.

In Blair's opinion, the most important part of every annual sleepover is the obligatory high stakes round of Truth or Dare. It is no ordinary round of the classic game. Suggest eating mustard and you would be officially banned from ever attending again, as Blair had told the girls many a time. No, there would be real-life consequences. Like the marriage Blair accidentally broke up one year when she kissed that guy with the wedding ring tan she helpfully pretended not to see.

This year would be no different. Sure, the annual sleepover almost didn't happen because Serena and Blair had spent four months out of this year not speaking after another fight. But what else was new? Best friends always fought and Blair wouldn't let that stop a tradition. She had already come up with a list of twelve winning dares that were certain to get at least one of the other girls arrested or banned from ever returning to Las Vegas.

"Ugh," Isabel groans as she walks up to Blair at the bar. "Kati and I just did a full loop of this place and there's not one cute guy, besides the one Serena already snagged." She shoots an envious scowl in Serena's direction.

"Don't fret, ladies," Blair feigns assuredness. "The night is young and if you all survive tonight's vicious round of truth or dare we can stop by the VIP-only lounge above Altitude. There'll be more suitable options there."

Blair glances over at S with an eye roll, watching her place her arm on the guy's arm. The intimate gesture gives her another flash of Serena entangled with Nate and she has to push the thought away to stop her blood from boiling. She still isn't completely over the fact that Serena and Nate had apparently lost their virginities to each other before Serena left for boarding school freshman year. That little revelation had come out the year Serena had returned to Constance Billard for senior year and six years later, it still wounds her.

Since finding about Serena's betrayal, their friendship had been admittedly strained with things reaching a new tension point when Serena had gotten into Yale, Blair's dream school and Blair had only gotten into Columbia.

So maybe Blair got the occasional urge to rip out Serena's too shiny blonde hair every now and then, but she couldn't just cut her out of her life, no matter how badly she wanted to at times. Serena was her sister, her best friend since birth, she couldn't end a connection like that.

Blair senses someone making a move for the empty bar seat to her left, deserted by Kati after she and Isabel claimed they needed to touch up a makeup refresher. She turns to glare at whoever it is and tell them to fuck off but stops short when he speaks. "Sorry, is, uh- Is this seat taken?"

The guy is not what she expected in a Vegas bar, she thought whoever it was would be a carbon copy of the man currently inching closer to Serena, another suited sleazy Wall Street-type here for a weekend of sin. Instead, the guy wears a slightly wrinkled tee shirt layered under a grey blazer and paired with slim fit dark jeans. She glances down at his shoes, Chelsea boots, hipster indeed. He doesn't belong and Blair has a flash of empathy for him because she too, should be anywhere but here. She can also tell she makes him a little uneasy which pleases her.

"It's not," Her tone is relaxed as she stirs her drink. Blair reminds herself that her own stroke of pleasantry was caused by boredom and nothing more. Plus, Kati had gotten a little too comfortable sitting next to her, clearly trying to edge out Penelope as second in command of the minions. Now, Kati would have to find somewhere else to sit upon returning from the ladies' room.

As Blair takes the last sip of her drink, the bartender materializes in front of her. "Another gin and tonic?"

She nods, deciding she's not quite drunk enough for a proper round of Truth or Dare. Besides, she still has ten minutes to kill, and that's plenty of time to finish her drink and subtly watch this nerd beside her read his book while sipping an Old Fashion.

With mild interest, she turns to look at him, "I always come to Las Vegas to do my reading, too. There's something about the ambiance… Isn't there?"

He looks up from his copy of Cat's Cradle and his brown eyes meet hers. She feels a flicker of something unexpected and reminds herself to steel her gaze a little more. God forbid he gets the impression she's flirting with him.

Before he can answer, Kati and Isabel wedge themselves back by her side. "Is it time yet? Penelope is so desperate for entertainment she's about to dial Nelly's ex because you know how that always cues the waterworks."

"I still don't get why she's here," Isabel chimes in. "In those glasses too. I told her to wear contacts but no, she can't with her astigmatism."

"My mom has astigmatism in both eyes and she wears contacts," Kati replies matter-of-factly.

Blair exhales in exasperation and downs the rest of her drink. She stands and smooths out the skirt of her burgundy jacquard dress. She gives one last glance to the guy beside her who is watching all of this in amusement before marching toward Serena.

"S, it's time." Blair steps between Serena and the businessman, not giving a single fuck about cockblocking this guy after he spent all night buying her best friend drinks. Blair has no doubt he was hoping for at least one night after dropping a couple hundred on her. As Blair clutches Serena's lithe arm, she turns to whisper in the guy's ear with a smirk. "Better luck next time."

"B!" Serena exclaims, "You're bad. Poor guy, you know he bought a bottle of Dom for us."

"Don't care," Blair leads the way toward the booth she reserved in the back for the festivities. It's in the secluded corner of the club where the sound is at least slightly muffled, allowing for somewhat decent (or indecent) conversations. At the center of the table is a few bottles of liquor surrounded by shot glasses.

"Let the games begin!"

The girls all do a shot and then Blair declares that Truth or Dare will proceed in alphabetical order, which means she gets to choose her victim first. "I choose…" She looks around pensively, as though she doesn't know exactly who she will pick. "S,"

She's met with an annoyed expression from Serena that's quickly replaced by a dazzling smile. "Dare, obviously."

Blair feels gleeful satisfaction pulse through her veins as she issues her dare, "I dare you to go steal that guy's room key, without him noticing-"

"Easy," Serena makes a move to get up, shimmying down her too-short silver mini dress.

"I'm not finished," Blair chides. "Then, go up to his room and leave your phone number on the bed and…" She pauses for effect. "That Cosabella g-string you're presumably wearing."

Serena just shrugs, much to Blair's dismay, and slides out of the booth with an airy wave of her hand. "Be back in ten!"

"Watch and learn how it's done, ladies," Blair instructs as they all fixate Serena, who effortlessly glides back over to the man from the bar. She leans in and whispers in his ear and when he turns to face her, he looks like he's just won the lottery, incorrectly thinking his night isn't a waste after all.

As Serena's cascading hair envelops the man's handsome face, she connects their lips. Blair figured she would go this route, it's the most predictable yet practical distraction. Her hands drift up his leg until their in his pocket and swiftly removes her target. She fumbles through it and for a split second, Blair is certain she's about to be caught as the man begins to pull away from her lips.

Then, with a manicured hand, she guides his head towards her neck, granting full access as she holds the wallet within sight and swiftly removes her target. By the time the wallet is back in his pocket, Serena has extracted herself from his embrace. Blair watches as the two have a whispered exchange. Serena gives him one last lingering kiss before sauntering toward the elevator, briefly flashing them all a winning smile.

"So what do we in the meantime?" Nelly asks, pushing her glasses back up on her nose.

Blair pours them all shots of Grey Goose and looks at them with a wicked grin. "Drink up,"

Serena returns ten minutes later, a smug smile on her face. "I hope he likes what he finds…If he ever gets back in. Hopefully, he was wise enough to get two key cards when he checked in. If not, well he'll be spending more of his night at the concierge than he expected. Oh, and I brought us something else."

Serena's hand drifts down towards her bra and she plucks out a sleek black AmEx card. "Drinks courtesy of one Colin Forrester tonight."

"Serena," The minions all exhale in wonder.

"So you're just commando right now?" Nelly asks with wide eyes.

"Actually," Serena smirks, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. "I'm not. I did leave a pair of my skimpiest Cosabella undies behind. But not the ones I'm wearing. You never specified, B."

Blair is instantly annoyed by this twist but presses on. "Okay, Kati's turn!"

Kati perks up and sets her attention on her best friend. "Sorry, Is. I choose you."

Isabel looks unperturbed and calmly selects, "Dare."

The night continues with the minions all daring each other to do things from obtaining the phone numbers of at least five men wearing wedding rings to making out with one of the nightclub bouncers. It's amateur hour, really, Blair thinks to herself. She does another shot to rouse herself before she inevitably gets dared.

The moment comes when Serena's turn arrives, right at the end of the round. Serena has an expression that Blair really doesn't like. That same cutting expression that she had leveled Blair with during their last fight, when she told her that Nate loved her, had always loved her.

Her stomach plummets as Serena's bright blue eyes meet her own surreptitious brown ones. "Blair,"

With an unfazed expression concealing her inner anxiety, Blair answers steadily. "Dare."

Serena smiles as though she's just played right into her hand. "I dare you to marry someone. Here. Tonight."

For the first time in what feels like Blair's whole entire life, victory seems unachievable. Because, of course, Serena always gets what she wants.


	2. Two

**Thank you all for being so encouraging with your kind words and excitement about this story! I truly appreciate it. A few of you are guest reviewers so I can't directly message you but I want to thank you all the same. So J, MsEscapistMd, DairHeart, and Guest I feel like you all have consistently reviewed my stories and followed along with them and I cannot thank you for that enough. You all keep me motivated to write so thank you, thank you!**

 **Also a bunch of gratitude for my wonderful beta ASadAir who makes my work better :)**

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As the brunette with the spark in her eye walks away, Dan Humphrey feels a wave of disappointment. But then, he remembers where he is and that unlike every other guy in this place, he isn't here to meet someone. In fact, he isn't even here by choice. Letting himself even have a beat of fun would be a concession.

The ill-conceived family trip to Las Vegas had been his dad's idea. Rufus Humphrey, frontman of Lincoln Hawk, had been on tour when Dan's sister turned 21 and had, as a result, missed a real chance to celebrate. Add on the fact that he and Alison had recently reconciled and were giving their relationship a second chance, the two were eager to seem like a proper family. Jenny, his sister, was persuaded by the fact that her parents would allow her to bring one friend. Dan would have received the same offer if he had a girlfriend to bring. But of course, he did not and was exiled to the city of sin with only books for company.

The moment their Volvo rental had crossed the Vegas Strip, he knew this place would be his own personal hell. The only thing that had led to his acquiescence was the fact that remaining in New York would mean constant exposure to his ex-girlfriend, whose face seemed to be plastered across every street corner. Her hazel eyes glinting dangerously, she stared imposingly down at him through the monstrous high-definition billboards. The seductive tug of her mouth emerging into a smirk, she appeared to be indulging in a private joke. That joke was probably Dan, who foolishly believed their relationship would work out.

Dating a movie star was a mistake.

When Olivia Burke entered his life, she was a charming blonde perfectly emulating the classic damsel-in-distress as she attempted to navigate NYU. He had helpfully guided her through college life, completely clueless of her celebrity status until their third date when they were chased out of the restaurant by the throngs of paparazzi clamoring for a picture of the Olivia Burke with her new mystery man.

By then, he found he was far too enamored of her to break it off. She had reassured him that she just wanted a normal life, she was done with the spotlight and NYU was her world now. And naturally, he bought it.

Flash forward six months when the pressures of her agent and the industry caught up to her and she decided that one more sequel to The Endless Knights wouldn't hurt. It had all gone downhill from there. Long set hours combined with school work didn't exactly grant her time for dinner dates. Then, she had thought it was harmless to take her co-star as her red-carpet date and let the tabloids believe they were back together. That was the breaking point for Dan, who ended the relationship the day her face, Patrick Roberts' and the bright red heart that encircled them along with an adoring caption were flaunted across every copy of Us Weekly in what seemed like all of America.

Now, one year later, he had yet to replace the Olivia-sized hole in his life. He wasn't naive enough to think he really loved her, or vice versa, but she had brightened his life and made him believe in himself. With her sunny can-do attitude and the way she always told him how much better he was than any of the writers she knew in the industry, he had felt he had a real shot at success. Since graduating, his days often felt mind-numbingly monotonous and writing had ceased to become a proper outlet. The last short story he had written was promptly rejected by a handful of publications, further cementing the idea that any talent he had fled him a long time ago.

So maybe, just maybe, the city of sin could ignite a new creative fervor in him. And for some reason, the girl at the bar had felt like that first promising spark.

Dan decides to order another Old Fashioned as he hears a trill of laughter, distracting him from his reading. Earlier, he had been weighing the intention of the brunette's question before he could answer. He couldn't quite tell if her sardonic remark was of the flirtatious or mocking nature. Just as a witty reply had sprung to mind, two girls that reminded him vaguely of Siamese twins inserted themselves in the gap between their barstools and dragged her away.

Another chapter devoured and two drinks downed, Dan starts to wonder if he should retreat to his hotel room. Jenny was still off with her friend, Elise, and his parents were still at their romantic dinner so they wouldn't know he had been a recluse all night. Besides, he could read anywhere so why not do it away from the pounding music and deafening chatter? As he started to finish the third drink and moved to close out his tab, he felt a presence at his side.

The bartender, though, had already responded to his signal and now stood in front of him. "He'll have another," He hears a familiar voice answer for him.

To his surprise and subsequent delight, he sees the brunette from earlier sliding into the bar stool beside him. She seems a little unsteady and a little too smiley to be sober. "And a gin and tonic for me."

Once she's done instructing the bartender, she turns to face Dan and offers her hand. "Blair. Your rescuer from another minute of what can only be described as tragedy." She shoots a pointed look at the book that he promptly plops down on the counter.

He shakes her hand, still bewildered. "Dan." It comes out like a question.

"Dan," She repeats, as though deliberating her approval. She nods, as if in response to a question of which he remains unaware and he thinks he hears her say, "You'll do."

The bartender passes them their drinks and the girl, Blair, takes hers, daintily twirling her straw. "You never answered my question."

Dan has since forgotten his witty reply so instead, he just says, "Well, a Las Vegas hotel and casino is the epitome of American travesty, so I'd say this is the only acceptable way to read Vonnegut given the themes of his novels."

"Ah," Blair nods thoughtfully. "So what are you really doing here? I don't get the feeling this is your scene."

"My sister's 21st birthday," Dan replies. "And my parent's wedding anniversary."

"Family vacay to Vegas, how sweet," Blair replies, although her saccharine tone conveys otherwise. An unexpected frown crosses her face, suddenly. "Although, perhaps I should have asked the bartender to card you. I personally stopped accompanying my parents anywhere across state lines around the time I turned 18."

"I'm well over 21," Dan laughs. "So I don't think that'll be necessary."

She looks pleased. "Good."

Dan scans her face, trying to find her angle. He was fairly certain she either was flirting with him or trying to scam him. The latter was becoming overwhelmingly likely with every probing question she asked. And the fact that she was considerably out of his league with her diamond jewelry and designer heels only made the possibility seem more plausible.

"I feel compelled to point out that you look just as out of place," Dan remarks as she sips her drink.

She nods, "I'm choosing to take that as a compliment, so thank you. My best friend chose this as our weekend getaway destination. The blonde," She points across the room toward the girl he had seen her corralling earlier.

"I see," Dan takes in the blonde best friend's positively indecent dress and skyscraper heels and decides this adds up. "And what would have been your choice?"

Blair looks pensive for a moment as she takes a final sip of her drink. "Charleston. It has history and a bit more charm than this nuclear-wasteland."

Dan smirks in reply before tossing back the last of his Old Fashioned.

"Another round?" She asks and proffers a black AmEx. "It's on me."

Against his better judgment, he finds himself saying yes.

The book is long forgotten, left behind for the weeping inebriated where it will serve alternate purposes. Somehow, Blair has convinced him that they should have a scavenger hunt of sorts. He finds she's an impossible person to refuse. Her demeanor alone tells him he should obey her. So they leave the bar and embark upon the Vegas strip in search of a destination he's not entirely sure of.

Blair simply tells him to follow her lead. "I take it you haven't had a Vegas-y experience yet and honestly, misery loves company. I need to know someone else is suffering in this city with me to feel truly at ease."

The glow of the city seems almost beautiful as they descend further down the Vegas strip. Even the phony Eiffel Tower receding into the distance makes the air feel more romantic. Finally, Blair stops this never-ending trek across town and lands them right in front of a white building that looks vaguely familiar.

"This is the exact spot where Britney Spears married Jason Alexander." Blair announces as they stare up at the steeple. "It's the epitome of this city."

"I didn't take you for a devout tabloid reader," Dan quips, staring up at the chapel. "But you are correct in deeming this the epitome of Las Vegas,"

There's silence as his eyes meet hers. He sways slightly from the combination of alcohol and ambiance and takes in her beautiful face. He wonders if he's drunker than he realized.

Blair, in turn, is looking at him with an indiscernible expression. Something like apprehension crosses her face as she takes a small step toward him. "I've never been married before."

Dan has the good sense to have a sinking feeling. But then another wave of drunkenness hits him and the feeling is forgotten. He watches as the lights of this hazy, smoky town dance across her delicate features. He has the sudden urge to reach out as he replies softly, "Me neither."

Both of their eyes drift toward the chapel again and when Blair's gaze lands on him again, it is with an idea written across her face. The look she's sporting both thrills and terrifies him. He has the simultaneous desire to run away from her and toward her. He attributes these meddling compulsions to the spontaneity of the night and the tension simmering between himself and this alluring stranger. It's undeniable that something about her ignites his veins, so much so that he thinks he has his answer.

One last look at her radiant face is all it takes. The word yes falls from his lips, before she's even asked the question.

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 **TBC...**

 **PS I've officially written this whole story and it includes an epilogue bringing the final chapter count to 12 and a word count of 20,000. All that's left is the editing process so you should be able to expect weekly updates :)**


	3. Three

**AN: At the end of the chapter.**

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As the kaleidoscope of colors clears and the rapid spinning finally slows to a stop, Blair struggles to sit up. She lets a hand come up to her face in a failed attempt at blocking out the sunlight streaming through the open curtains. Squeezing her eyelids as tight as she can, she rolls toward the middle of the bed, attempting to bury herself in a mountain of pillows but fails. Instead of finding a deliciously comfortable cloud to sink into, she hits something solid.

She forces her bleary eyes open and stifles a scream as she sees tanned skin and a head of dark, unruly curls. "What the fuck?"

She sits up and clutches the sheets to her, glancing down to confirm that at least she's clothed lest she need to defend herself from the partially (and hopefully not fully) naked man beside her. She tentatively watches the stranger rouse himself from the fog of sleep, her breath caught in her throat. As he sits up fully, rubbing a hand over his forehead, a stream of memories enters her consciousness. "Where-"

He stops short as he looks at her in alarm, then with recognition. "Blair,"

As he says her name, his comes back to her. Dan. The guy with the book at the bar. Why the hell was she in bed with him? "What are you doing in my room?"

Upon asking the question, she realizes this isn't her room either. Because Serena isn't here and it's far larger than the one they had booked. This room is impressively at least 1,000 square feet bigger than the one she had slept in last night.

"I think- I- Oh, god." A hand is scrubbing over his features as though trying to wash away a memory. He slides out of bed and pulls on a shirt before turning to look at her. "I think we got married last night."

"What?" Blair stands up before feeling a sudden wave of dizziness and easing back down on the edge of the bed. She's about to tell him that's absurd but then she glances down at her hand and sees a platinum diamond eternity band resting on her ring finger. "Water, I need- Water. I think-" She covers her dry mouth. "I think I might be sick."

A bottle of Evian is handed to her and she easily downs half of it. She looks up to see Dan watching her in consternation. "Are you okay?"

She nods, "Thank you."

Feeling marginally better, she stands and looks around for something to wear other than the lacy chemise she has on. She finds a terry cloth robe hanging in the closet courtesy of the hotel and puts it on, figuring it's better than last night's discarded party dress on the floor. "I think I need a Vicodin before I can even begin to process this. Or at least an aspirin. And maybe a Bloody Mary. Toast, too."

"Is that all?" Dan smirks and Blair glares at him. Great, she married someone whose sense of humor never flees him, even during the most inappropriate of times.

"I'm so glad you find this all so amusing," Blair says sharply before reaching over to the phone on the nightstand. She dials and then speaks hurriedly into the phone. "What the fuck, Serena?"

"Good morning, newlywed." Serena sings brightly, then lowers her voice as she speaks in conspicuous tones. "How was the consummation?"

"S, this is not funny. What the hell did you let me do?" Blair barks angrily through the phone line. "I blame you for this fucking mess I woke up to that I have yet to even get the full scope of. So you can bring me up a change of clothes, the strongest pills you can find in your suitcase, and my phone. And wallet."

"Jeez," Serena stifles a laugh. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Don't you need my room number?" Blair asks in a rush before Serena can hang up.

"There's only one honeymoon suite, I'll find it." Serena replies and the line goes dead.

Dan is pacing the room, now looking just as anxious as she is. He apparently didn't lose his phone in the chaos of last night and is scrolling through it, as though seeking answers.

Blair eyes him, "So I take it your memory is less foggy than mine. Tell me what you know,"

He stills and nods slowly. "I remember," He pauses. "I remember sitting at the bar reading. You said something to me about the ambiance and then walked away a minute later. You, uh, you came back an hour or so later. You bought us drinks, we talked, this is where it gets hazy. I think you said we should go explore the city or it was a game-"

"A scavenger hunt," It starts to come back to Blair. "To find the most quintessential Vegas-landmark."

"Right," Dan agrees. "Then, we walked for a while until we got to-"

"The Little White Chapel." They say in unison with equally morose expressions.

Blair doesn't need him to continue because it all hits her in stunning clarity. She freezes in the middle of the room as the memory plays out. They had stood in front of the chapel and she had subtley quoted Breakfast at Tiffany's, predicatably. She had always thought it was utterly romantic that Holly Golightly had gotten married on a whim, no wonder she jumped so quickly into the dare without another thought. The Blair from last night probably thought she was only making her own narrative more cinematic.

"Fuck," Blair says, at last, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

"Yeah." Dan looks just as wrecked as she does.

There's a knock on the door and Blair rushes to it. She flings it open with her fiercest glare. "This is your fault."

"B," Serena smiles sweetly. "The game was your idea. You're the one that insists on high-stakes dares-"

"Sorry, 'dares'?" Dan asks from across the room, watching them.

"He doesn't know?" Serena raises an eyebrow.

"Give me that," Blair ignores her question and takes her weekender bag from Serena's arms. "Meet me down in the restaurant in fifteen. Save us a table,"

"Sure, I'll ask if they have any newlywed breakfast specials too. Maybe they have a table shaped like a heart for you two," Serena is kicked out of the room with a firm shove by Blair.

"I'm going to change and then we are going to figure out how the fuck to get out of this mess, over breakfast. In the meantime, please do some research to see if Tesla has invented a time machine yet. Because I could really use a redo of last night." With that, Blair slams the door to the bathroom.

She emerges fifteen minutes later with minimal makeup, a pair of dark skinny jeans, and a black cashmere sweater. Her monochromatic look is a perfect representation of her mood. Dan is lying on his back on the bed, fully dressed, with a glum expression on his face. Although she may not know his address or even his coffee preference, she at least knows that at this moment he is feeling exactly the same as she is.

"Come on," She instructs, grabbing her bag and opening the door for them to leave the room.

He does as he's instructed and follows her into the elevator. She presses the button for the restaurant while Dan leans into the wall with a heavy sigh. "How am I going to tell my parents? I have twenty texts from them asking where I am and what I did last night."

"That's your concern right now?" Blair's face creases. "Dan. We got married. On the very ground Britney _fucking_ Spears once stood on. This is a mistake of colossal proportions."

The elevator descends and Blair's eyes widen suddenly. "I don't even know your last name!"

"It's Humphrey," Dan informs her calmly.

"Oh, god," Blair covers her mouth. "Humphrey? Thank god name changes aren't part of the whole marriage package. I think I'd change my first name if that was the case because the name Blair would forever be ruined if rejoined by the last name of Humphrey."

Dan looks offended and she feels a tiny prick of regret. His tone is sarcastic as he replies in a mumble. "Thanks,"

"Sorry," She says weakly before another couple enters the elevator. They fall silent as more people enter the elevator at the next floor. Once they reach the restaurant, they collectively step out, both with a sense of foreboding looming over their minds. Blair hands her bag to the hostess to be checked and gives her Serena's name. The hostess shows them to a table with all her friends already seated and she and Dan take the last two open seats.

"Congrats, Blair!" Nelly beams like a complete and total idiot. Penelope elbows Nelly sharply so Blair doesn't have to admonish Nelly herself. Instead, she simply levels her with a scowl.

"On the bright side," Serena attempts cheerfully, "Cyrus can probably get you out this, right?"

Blair sets her head in her hands, ignoring the menu being passed at her by Kati who sports a sympathetic expression. "Yes, _ugh_ , but that means telling my mother."

"Who's Cyrus?" Dan asks from beside her.

"My stepfather, he's a lawyer." She explains further. "An entertainment lawyer slash former divorce lawyer, but he still has the necessary qualifications to issue an annulment."

"Annulment," Dan repeats back like it's a foreign word.

"Yes," Blair stares back. "Annulment. Of course. What? Did you think we were going to stay married?"

"Of course not." Dan says a little too sharply just as the waitress arrives. They all put in their food orders and then descend into another uncomfortable silence.

Blair didn't need to glance at the menu to know that the only thing her stomach could handle right now was bland oatmeal. The coffee she also ordered will probably only make her feel worse but copious amounts of caffeine are necessary to process the calamity of last night.

"So Dan, how much longer are you in Vegas for?" Serena puts on her most conciliatory of tones. The way she's peering between them makes Blair feel like she's a live soap opera.

"I fly back to New York, tomorrow morning." He glances at Blair. "I'm supposed to at least."

Blair though is staring at him like he just said he's Jupiter-bound because what she just heard cannot be right. "New York?"

"Yes," Dan confirms in consternation. "I live in Brooklyn. We never asked each other where we live, did we?"

Blair shakes her head. "I live on the Upper East Side."

"OMG!" Kati claps her hands together in wonder.

"I guess you guys don't need that annulment after all," Penelope remarks sarcastically. "Sounds super meant to be."

Blair shoots them all withering glares before turning back to Dan a little more relaxed than before. "That will make the legal process easier. We can just handle it back in the city. What time is your flight tomorrow?"

"Seven," Dan takes a sip of his coffee and Blair follows suit.

Blair looks at him, deciding. "So it wouldn't really make a difference if you left tonight instead, would it? Because if you were on my flight, we could get the process started. I can call my stepdad and find out what the first steps are. Then by the time we're back in New York, we'll be practically annulled."

"I don't think that's how it works, Blair. The legal pro-" Nelly pipes up and is quickly shushed with one glance from Blair.

"I guess," Dan replies hesitantly. "I mean I'd have to tell my parents. I'd have to switch my flight too-"

"I'll take care of the flight." Blair waves that concern off. "Just give me your original flight number, legal name as in whatever's on your ID, and I'll call the airline to inform them of your flight change."

"Daniel Randolph Humphrey." A collection of giggles break out at this and Blair gawks at Dan.

"Randolph?" She places her hand on her forehead. "I thought it couldn't get worse, but of course it did."

"What's your middle name then?" He challenges.

"Cornelia," Blair announces primly, folding her hands in front of her.

He raises an eyebrow, "That's just as bad. You realize that, right?"

"No, it's not."

"It really is."

"Okay!" Serena cuts in cheerily, with a wave of her mimosa flute. "It's too soon for you two to be fighting. You haven't even gone on your honeymoon yet!"

Dan and Blair each look over at her cuttingly and she makes an apologetic expression. "Alright, no wedding jokes, I get it."

"Thank god, the food is here." Isabel sighs in relief as the waitress makes her way with a huge tray of food. The distraction is a welcome reprieve from bickering, Blair decides, letting her focus shift away from her temporary husband.

After breakfast, Blair calls the airline and gets Dan booked in first class with her. Dan meanwhile goes to talk to his parents who she thankfully won't have to meet given that they're staying in a different hotel. She waves him off as he climbs into his taxi and watches the yellow car speed away with the man that is now properly known as her husband. Pushing away that though, she heads in the direction of her room. With the flights taken care of, all that's left is packing.

As she's attempting to zip her stuffed suitcase, Serena stands before her looking apprehensive. "You aren't really mad at me, are you?"

Blair doesn't bother to look up as her whole body tenses. "Of course, not. It was a game."

"B, I can tell when you're lying." Serena steps closer. "I didn't think you'd go through with it. But at least Dan doesn't seem so bad, he's cute, too."

That forces Blair to look up, sharply. "He's a stranger, S. I didn't even know his last name until this morning. And he's from Brooklyn!"

"Why did you choose him? Out of everyone in this city." Serena pushes down on Blair's suitcase with her Pilates-toned arms so it'll zip.

The suitcase closes and Blair stands, her hands on her hips. "He sat next to me at the bar earlier that night. It was easier than picking someone completely random."

Serena nods and stands up her own suitcase, grabbing the handle. "At least he's been easygoing about this. It should make the annulment stress-free."

"Really, Serena?" Blair feigns thoughtfulness. "You know that you mention, I have been overreacting about this whole thing. Being married to a stranger is NBD…" She glares. "My mother is going to kill me, by the way."

"It'll be kinda funny though, won't it?" Serena gives Blair a tentative smile. "I know how much you love horrifying your mom. This will top the time that you told your mom you were considering a state school."

Blair can't help but laugh in accordance and a fraction of her irritation dissipates. "She might have a heart attack when she finds out. Maybe I should find out her cholesterol levels to be safe before I tell her."

"See," Serena bumps her hip playfully. "There's a bright side, after all."

After gathering up their bags, the two head for the elevators. Blair hopes Dan is waiting for them on his floor as she instructed earlier. If she married someone unpunctual, well that might just be what makes her snap.

The elevator dings and Dan is waiting at the floor below. His duffel bag is slung over his arm and he gives her a polite smile as he steps in. "Ready?"

She is about to retort, having already conjured up about twenty different scathing responses ranging in length. But as she looks into his warm brown eyes, she cannot help but think that maybe, _just maybe_ , this isn't so bad after all.

* * *

 **TBC...**

 **Hope you all liked this chapter :) Thanks for reading!**

 **Of course, a thank you is also owed to my beta, ASadAir!**


	4. Four

**Thank you to my beta, ASadAir, and to all of you for reading!**

* * *

Flashing their tickets at a uniformed woman, Dan and Blair are ushered through a dimly lit hallway. While Blair strides confidently, Dan is uncertain in his gait. They emerge into what's clearly a first-class lounge and Dan realizes, of course, Blair Waldorf wouldn't settle for anything else. Blair heads straight for the bar and orders herself a gin and tonic and him an Old Fashioned. The fact that she remembers what he was drinking last night gives him a small blip of pleasure that doesn't go unnoticed. His wife may not even know his home address but at least she knows what he drinks. That's something, he thinks.

Once they have their drinks, Blair leads him to a quiet corner where calls are allowed so she can phone her mother and presumably, the lawyer stepfather.

"Hi, mother," Blair greets after taking what looks like a sizable swig of her drink. "Is Cyrus there?"

Dan looks on in curiosity as Blair frowns and exhales sharply. "If you must know, I require his legal advice. I need an annulment."

Dan grimaces as her mother's voice booms through the phone. "What? Blair Cornelia Waldorf, please tell me this is a joke."

"No, mother." Blair holds the phone away an inch from her ear. "Now we can remedy this quicker if you put Cyrus on the phone to get the process started."

The conversation, mostly inaudible from Dan's end, continues until finally, Blair says. "But mother, he's from Brooklyn!"

The conviction with which Blair delivers that piece of information is so forceful that Dan feels compelled to remind her of his presence. With a frown, he leans over to whisper. "I'm sitting right here, you realize that I can hear you right?"

She scowls at him momentarily before turning her attention back to the call. Five minutes later, she ends the call in a huff, sporting a menacing expression. "Well, we need to find a lawyer."

"Why?" Dan feels his face crease. "I thought you said your stepdad could do it."

"Apparently, he and mother have embarked on some co-parenting initiative and since they didn't give my stepbrother shelter, Aaron, when he got evicted last month, I have to quote-unquote clean up my own mess." Blair looks so apoplectic that Dan wishes he had chosen a chair further away.

Blair's phone pings suddenly and her face softens just a little. "Cyrus just texted me a few names. So at least there's that. He said if we give his name, we'll get a reduced fee."

"That's a start," Dan keeps his tone hopeful even though he's mentally fretting about how he will meet rent this month in addition to legal fees. He can only imagine the sort of lawyers with their exorbitant costs Blair and her family would associate with. "We'll have to wait until Monday though, they're all closed on weekends. So I guess our marriage will outlast Britney's..."

"That makes us considerably classier," Dan quips, which at least gets her to smile the tiniest bit. "I'll get you another drink, okay?" He offers after eying her empty glass.

She nods and mutters a thank you as he sets off toward the bar.

"How much longer until we can board?" Dan asks when he returns with her gin and tonic. This time, he settles into an armchair across from her in their own little private corner of the lounge. Her anger doesn't seem to have dissipated and he fears his proximity will only further aggravate her.

"Thirty minutes," Blair replies as she puts her phone back in her purse. She pauses and then eyes him. "I suppose I should know more than just your full name if I'm to be married to you all weekend."

"What do you want to know?" Dan is taken aback by her sudden interest but he can't argue her point. Someday, when he looks back on this whole thing he would like to have some idea of what sort of person he had once been married to.

"Job?" Blair briskly begins her inquisition.

"Associate Editor at W Magazine." He watches Blair's expression turn into one of approval.

"You?"

"Assistant Buyer at Barneys." Blair fires off another question. "Education?"

"NYU." Dan gestures for her to answer the same question.

"Columbia." Dan detects a note of bitterness which he finds strange, given the Ivy League status of Columbia.

Blair proceeds with her line of questioning and they learn everything from one another's favorite movies to preferred music genres. To Dan's pleasure and Blair's horror, they even find they have a few things in common. After each catching their breath, Blair continues on.

"Number of ex-girlfriends?"

This one flusters Dan and he feels his face crease. "How is this one relevant?"

"It is. Answer." Blair instructs.

Dan lets out a breath. "Two."

"Names and duration of relationships?"

"Okay, this is getting too personal." Dan chuckles, nervously.

"You can learn a lot about a person by knowing who they've chosen to be within the past." Blair is very matter-of-fact as she leans forward onto the armrest, scrutinizing him with an intense gaze.

"Only if you answer too."

She answers without the slightest hesitation. "Three... Nate Archibald, four years. James- I mean, Marcus Beaton, four months. Louis Grimaldi, two months."

Dan looks puzzled and makes her backtrack. "You forgot your ex's name? Is it James or Marcus?"

"It's Marcus. I just forget because he had originally said he was James for the first month of our relationship. Sometimes I get mixed up." She shrugs as though it's completely natural.

"Why would he lie about his name?" Dan is too intrigued and a little concerned about the type of men she dates to stop this line of questioning.

"He was the son of a duke and didn't want me dating him for the wrong reasons."

"A duke?" Dan is frozen in his seat, jaw slack. "You dated a prince?"

"He wasn't a prince. He was a lord."

"Oh, of course," Dan puts on a mock dignified tone as though this makes complete sense. "A lord. The other relationships, what happened with them?"

"Look who's nosy now," She raises her eyebrows. "Nate was…" She trails off for so long he doesn't think she'll answer. "There are a lot of reasons it didn't work but it's best summed up as a naive relationship which I put far too much stock in. Louis was simply exhausting. It turns out dating a prince isn't as glamorous as it seems."

"Wait," Dan holds up a hand. "You not only dated a lord but also a prince?"

"Yes," Blair nods. "Your turn."

Dan shakes his head wondering who the hell he married and how she ended up marrying someone like him. At least he has the famous ex, that'll count for something. "Um, Vanessa Abrams, two years. She was my best friend for years before that and it turned out we didn't work romantically. At least, I didn't think so. Then, Olivia Burke, six months. Her fame got in the way." He tries to mimic Blair's nonchalant tone.

Blair wrinkles her nose. "Not that actress from Endless Knights… Please don't tell me I married her ex-boyfriend."

"Yes, you did." _Okay, so semi-famous ex doesn't count for something_ , Dan shakes his head to himself.

"Ugh, see this is why I asked that question." She shakes her head. "I really can't picture it by the way."

"Picture what?"

"You and her. It just doesn't make sense."

He feels a sting at her words and tries to brush it off with a sardonic response. "Thanks."

"I meant," She elaborates. "You seem far too intelligent for her. I mean, did she really watch Nénette with you?"

"No," Dan replies honestly. "She hated anything with subtitles."

Blair gestures as to say, _see_ , and moves on to her next question. "Number of sexual partners?"

"I'm not answering that." Dan is adamant, this inquisition has gone too far.

"Hm," Blair leans forward so that they're only an elbow's length from each other. She studies him in the silence, too close for comfort. "I can't decide if your reticence implies the number is on the multiple digit end of the spectrum or the opposite."

"Oh, look, our flight is boarding." Dan points to the Departures board off in the distance and collects their bags, starting toward their gate in a rush.

Blair hurries after him. "You know, you're making me really glad we didn't sleep together. I'm starting to suspect you have an STD with your caginess. And if we were drunk enough to get married with that little thought, I would guarantee we'd be idiotic enough to not use a condom. I'd probably not only be phoning my lawyer today but also my gyno."

"Blair, please!" an exasperated Dan turns to silence her in embarrassment. They've attracted more than a pair of prying eyes as they stormed through the airport with Blair sprouting off words such as 'condom' and 'STD.'

Thankfully, Blair obeys and they arrive at the counter of their gate a moment later. First-class has already begun boarding and Blair hands the gate attendant her boarding pass. With an innocent tone, she asks, "And your husband's?"

Startled into an uncharacteristic silence, Blair blinks at her while Dan steps forward and offers the pass.

As they are walking through the bridge leading toward the plane, Blair peers around speculatively. "How did she know?"

"You still have on your ring," Dan gestures toward her left hand. "Where did you get that anyway? I don't remember going to a jewelry shop last night, not that one would've been open at that hour."

"Fucking Serena." Blair takes off the ring and drops it into her bag as they stand in line to step through the plane entrance. "It's just a piece of fine jewelry but she helpfully pointed out that it could totally double as a wedding band last night. Don't you remember? She was our witness. I bet she procured that Marriage License earlier in the day too, I think she had it all planned out."

"You really think she could be so calculated?" Dan is skeptical. "I thought she was your best friend."

Dan can tell Blair is quickly latching onto this idea of Serena having orchestrated the marriage. She's so pensive that she doesn't notice the line has cleared and they're due to board the plane. He gives her arm a gentle tug before he steps into the cool, dimly lit airplane.

"It's complicated" is all Blair says as they're directed toward their seats just a few rows away. Blair settles into the window seat, looking deep in thought as Dan puts their bags in the overhead bins.

Once he's seated beside her, she seems to have forgotten the topic of Serena. "By the way, I was never actually serious about that sex question. But it was fun watching you get flustered, your cheeks are still red. Who knew marriage could be so fun?"

The concept of marriage, once so foreign to Dan, has oddly become familiar enough that he no longer feels an inevitable panic rising in his chest every time it is mentioned. He wonders, for just a moment, if he should be concerned by this newfound familiarity. But then, he sees Blair's wry expression and finds himself smiling back.

"It is so fun," Dan mirrors her tone. "Maybe we should just stay married. I'm sure all your Upper East Side friends will love to hear how you got married in Vegas to a Brooklynite."

With that, Blair's signature Medusa-like stare returns. One glance and Dan knows that no, he shouldn't be concerned. It's not like this marriage will last.


	5. Five

**Happy holidays :) Thank you to ASadAir for her wonderful beta work and to all of you, for continuing to read and review.**

* * *

Four hours and fifty minutes stretches ahead as the plane begins its taxi to the runway. Blair glances over at Dan, who looks like he's struggling to get comfortable in his cushy seat. "If you want, I can ask them if you can move back to Coach where you might be more comfortable."

She's still mad about his little dig about staying married. The single reminder of the UES finding out about her small matrimonial stint in Vegas was enough to make her remember how vexing this whole clusterfuck is. Just as she's feeling a new wave of animosity towards Serena, the flight attendant, Pippa, according to the silver name tag on her royal blue uniform, materializes in the cabin aisle.

"Hello," She's flashing a veneered smile and clutching two flutes of champagne. She looks exactly like a Pippa, Blair decides. "Congratulations on your marriage!"

As Pippa hands them the flutes of champagne, Blair stares back, dumbfounded. She took off the ring, _how the hell does this keep happening?_

"Uh, we're not-" This time Dan seems just as flustered as Blair as he bumbles. He trails off trying to explain and instead replies with, "How did you know?"

The flight attendant beaming smile grows even wider. "Your friends back there," She points helpfully to where Serena is sitting beside Penelope. Blair has to lean over Dan slightly to observe this and watches as her so-called friends wave enthusiastically. She had forgotten about them in the chaos of the day. They had all booked the same flight but Blair had told them she would ride to the airport separately with Dan so they could go over their annulment plan.

Blair shoots them a dirty look in response and sits back in her chair. Seemingly satisfied the passengers have been served, Pippa proceeds on down the aisle and Blair is left alone with Dan who's pensive. "You might be right about them conspiring against you."

He's looking uneasily at the champagne where it sits on the tray table. Blair observes this and notes, "You'd better drink that before take off."

He shakes his head and passes it to her, putting the tray table back in its upright position. Blair finishes hers and then starts sipping on his. He watches and then asks, "So what's up with you two? I thought Serena was your best friend."

"It's complex," Blair says, not wanting to elaborate. Instead, she fiddles with her carry-on bag, tucking it further under the seat in front of her.

"How is it complex?" Dan doesn't seem to notice that this is a sore topic for Blair.

Remembering her prior interrogation, Blair supposes it's only fair to tell him the truth. Letting out an exhausted breath, she faces him. "If you must know, she slept with my ex-boyfriend, Nate."

This piece of trivia seems to thoroughly flummox Dan, who opens then closes his mouth repeatedly, unable to formulate a response. He probably thought it was going to be some petty drama, Blair muses. "Oh. That is complex, I suppose. Although, I feel like I have to ask why you're still friends with her even after that?"

Blair lets her head fall against her seat and shuts her eyes momentarily. "I wonder that myself all the time. But, simply put, Serena is like my sister. It's not that easy to cut her out. And we do have good times, mixed in with the bad. Really good times, in fact."

A flash of the two of them on graduation day vowing to be friends forever as they chug champagne fills her mind. Their dynamic... It's nothing she could describe to Dan.

Dan nods even though he looks befuddled as the flight attendant returns, collecting their empty flutes and checking their seatbelts. Blair looks out the window idly as the staff runs through the safety instructions. Soon enough, she's watching the lights along the Vegas strip diminish into tiny specks as the plane takes off.

"People get annulments all the time," Dan says assuredly, a while later, as though sensing her distress. "In five years from now, this will all be a blip in the distant past."

She turns to look at him and sees that his face doesn't quite match his tone. She feels her stomach plummet momentarily, probably due to the plane making a sharp turn in the sky. "Or Serena will blackmail me with this for the rest of my life. She has photos, by the way."

"What?" Dan looks taken aback and Blair acknowledges she probably should have told him this sooner. Serena had shown her over breakfast when Dan had gotten up to take a call from his dad. They did something to her stomach that rendered her without an appetite for the remainder of the morning.

"Yep," Blair plasters on a smile that comes out more like a grimace. "On the bright side, we weren't married by an Elvis-impersonator. According to the photos, we chose a nondescript officiant, so there's that."

"I guess that is a plus," Dan agrees after some thought. "The photos are on her phone?"

Blair nods. "I would steal it and delete them but I'm sure she's backed them up to the cloud already. Just so you know, she likely won't actually blackmail me with them but instead will helpfully show them at my future wedding... Or something like that. I didn't want you to take that remark literally."

At the mention of her future wedding, an unreadable expression crosses Dan's face. _Maybe he's imagining the potential effect this marriage hiccup might have on his own future relationships_ , Blair muses. That panicky feeling that was there when she saw the photo evidence returns at this thought.

As the plane levels out in the sky, bright-eyed Pippa returns taking drink orders. Dan orders a whiskey on the rocks and Blair mentally rejoices that finally, this whole debacle is taking on a toll on his demeanor. She, on the other hand, is plenty tipsy from her numerous drinks and passes on another round.

Bored, Blair decides to see what movies are on the in-flight entertainment screen. Dan follows suit and she finds herself waiting with interest to see what he'll choose. He quickly selects a movie and begins to plug in his headphones to the jack under the screen. She feels a flicker of annoyance that he chose the very movie that she had been eying because now, that would be weird if she watched the same one. _Far too couple-y…_

Instead, she puts on the only classic movie they have, a Katherine Hepburn movie. Not the right Hepburn, in her opinion, but it'll have to do. She finds her eyes flicking over to Dan's screen where the foreign film plays. He notices about ten minutes in and pulls out one of his earbuds, "Can I help you?" He asks wryly.

"No," She responds sharply and turns her attention back to her own screen.

Blair feels his eyes fixed on her until he finally says, "You know we can watch the same movie."

She pretends not to hear him until she decides, _fuck it._ So what if watching the same movie is a bit too cutesy? This flight has over four hours left and she'd rather pass the time watching something she's genuinely interested in.

Clicking through her own screen, she finds the movie again and presses play. She watches as Dan leaves his paused and she wonders if he's waiting until her own screen catches up. Sure enough, once their screens are mirror images of one another, he presses play and a tiny flutter ignites in her solar plexus.

It's dark in the cabin with only the dim aisleway lights aglow when Blair's eyes open. She feels her head resting on something warm and sits up to see that, _great_ , she fell asleep on Dan. The elderly woman across the aisle smiles at her as if to say, _how adorable_. She ignores this and looks up at Dan who's thankfully still sleeping. She straightens out her cashmere sweater and picks a speck of lint off it, shifting as far away as possible from Dan to hide the evidence of their shared nap.

Retrieving her compact from her purse, she examines herself and restores her face to its usual impeccable form. She clicks on the monitor in front of her and sees that there's only an hour remaining until they land at JFK.

Dan stirs beside her and wakes up a few minutes later. His hair is even more disheveled and she finds her lips curling at the sight. He blinks at her blearily for a moment, as though he can't quite place her.

"Hello, have a nice nap?" She asks, sweetly. "Don't worry, you didn't drool. I'm quite relieved I didn't marry a drooler." Blair watches as Dan shakes his head at her and retrieves a water bottle from the pouch on the chair in front of him, diverting his attention.

He checks the flight remainder time just like she did and then sits back in his seat, drumming his fingers on the armrest.

"How's it going newlyweds?" Penelope suddenly appears by their seats. "You two seem to be adjusting to married life well." She pulls out her phone and shows photographic evidence of Blair sleeping on Dan's shoulder. The photo is all grainy, presumably from the stalker level zooming required to capture the shot.

Blair fights the urge to snatch the phone and smash it. Instead, an idea comes to her that seems far more effective.

"You know what," Blair smiles brightly and puts a hand on Dan's shoulder. She feels him tense as she scoots closer and she hopes Penelope doesn't notice. "I am, actually. It's so reassuring to be married and not have to worry about ending up alone… When was the last time you had a boyfriend again? I guess you might have forgotten that feeling of security. Hey, Dan, do you have any friends for poor, P? Her type is rather scrawny, glasses are a must, the wire-rimmed type, not those trendy tortoise ones. And braces, just like her ex had, what was his name again? Alvin? Or was it Milton?"

Penelope huffs in annoyance and proceeds on to the bathroom without deigning to give a response. Once she's gone, Dan looks at the spot where Blair's palm is still resting on his arm. "What was that?"

Blair retrieves her hand and looks at him as though he's very dim. She feels a flicker of irritation at his clear disdain from personal contact with her. "I've come to a resolution. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner, actually. The only way they're going to stop making jokes about our little Vegas mishap is if we embrace it. I might even tell them we've decided to give the marriage a try."

"But we're still getting an annulment right?" Dan stares back in dismay.

"No, Dan," Blair says flatly. "We're going to stay married, have two kids, and live in a house with a white picket fence upstate, all as part of a charade. I've always wanted to be able to tell my future children that mommy and daddy had a quickie wedding in Vegas. Oh and that the marriage is just a sham. They'll suddenly understand why we fight so much and why we're always on the verge of-"

"Okay," Dan holds up his hands. "I get the picture. Your imagination is frighteningly vivid."

Blair can't disagree with that, so she just presses her lips together.

Dan is still looking at her with furrowed brows as he says. "You're not very pleasant when you've just woken up."

"Go back to sleep before you can find out just how unpleasant I can be," Blair instructs with a warning tone before letting her attention drift back to her inactive entertainment screen.

The twinkle of city lights greets them as they land at JFK. Blair lets out a sigh of relief that she's halfway out of this mess. Once they're given the clear by the flight attendants, they unbuckle their seatbelts. Dan steps into the aisle to retrieve their carry-on luggage from the overhead bins.

Blair smiles in gratitude as he wheels her compact suitcase toward her. _At least chivalry hasn't died in Brooklyn._

They deboard the plane in a single file line. From behind them, Blair hears Serena speaking between audible breaths. "Hey, B, can I catch a ride with you into the city?"

Blair turns around with a readily apologetic expression, "Sorry but no. I told Dan my driver could drop him off in Brooklyn."

She feels Dan start to protest so she jabs him in the ribs, subtly enough for Serena not to see.

"Sorry," Blair makes a pouty face. "Maybe you can ride with Penelope."

"Fine." Serena huffs and slinks away.

As they reach the terminal, Blair turns her attention back to Dan. "Where do you live exactly?"

"Williamsburg," His response doesn't surprise her. _Of course_ , he'd live in the ultimate hipster Brooklyn neighborhood.

"Fine, that's on the way enough. Oh by the way, here's the address of the lawyer we need to see Monday." Blair shows him the address on her phone and he punches it into his own phone's map, bookmarking the address.

As they descend on the escalators, Blair can spot a familiar face in the distance. They're greeted by Dorota who holds a sign adorned with messy handwriting spelling out, "Miss Blair."

Blair feels a sudden wave of affection and envelops Dorota in a fierce hug as soon as she's reached her. She'll understand this mess. "Oh, Dorota. I'm so glad you're here."

"I tell Vanya we must go pick up Miss Blair. He cover for your driver tonight. We drive you instead." Dorota beams. Then she peers behind Blair with suspicion and Blair realizes she has an introduction to make.

"Dan, this is Dorota." Blair looks between them. "Dorota this is… Dan, my husband." She chokes on the word.

Dan attempts to shake Dorota's hand but she seems paralyzed as her eyes go wide and her makeshift sign clatters to the ground. "Husband? Miss Blair, please tell me you joke."

"It's a long story," Blair says as Dorota manages to shake Dan's hand. Blair retrieves the cardboard from the ground and tosses it in a nearby bin. "Ready? Oh and we need to drop Dan off on the way."

"Who is that?" Dan whispers to Blair as they follow Dorota to Vanya's black sedan.

"She's like family." Blair says by way of explanation. When they reach the car, Dan and Vanya load the bags and Dan gives Vanya his address. He and Blair climb into the backseats as Dorota watches them with undisguised interest from the passenger seat.

She makes a gesture for Blair to explain. Blair gives the short version. "This year's round of Truth or Dare got a bit out of hand thanks to Serena."

"Oh, Miss Blair, I always knew that happen one day. Here I think you end up arrested, not married." Dorota brings a hand to her forehead. She points at Dan. "He not bad man?"

Dan looks mortally offended and Blair laughs. "No, Dorota. Although he does live in Brooklyn so I suppose his character is rather questionable."

Dan scowls at her and she smiles in response. Dorota continues her inquisition, "You two get divorce?"

"God, no," Blair is horrified. "An annulment, obviously. I hardly want to be a 24-year-old divorcee."

"Mister Cyrus help?"

"No," Blair replies tersely. "He and my mother said I need to deal with it on my own. Actually, Vanya, do you mind driving me to the lawyer's office on Monday? Dan and I are going to meet there at-" She glances at him. "Noon?"

"Sure," Dan nods. "I can meet you on my lunch break. I work a few blocks from Midtown."

"Perfect," Blair is contended.

Vanya nods his accordance and the rest of the drive continues on in silence. They pull up to a dimly lit street twenty minutes later and Dan instructs Vanya to pull over. Blair looks up at the brick building and wonders which dark window belongs to Dan. A moment later, he's climbing out of the car and leaning in to say goodbye. "I'll see you Monday, I guess."

"Yes." Blair says sharply. "Noon. Don't be late."

"Don't worry, honey," Dan jokes in what must be his best husband tone. "I wouldn't dare."

She shoots him once last glare before he walks away and recedes into the building. Blair looks forward to see Dorota is eying her curiously. Blair raises her eyebrows at her. "What?"

Dorota smiles and reaches over to squeeze Vanya's knee. "Already bickering just like old married couple. You two sound like me and Vanya."

Blair quickly flicks her gaze away, not letting Dorota see the two spots of color that rose on her cheeks. This weekend has had way too many marriage jokes and they're starting to cement something that she'd rather not acknowledge.

Brooklyn fades into the distance and she lets her eyes flutter shut as the town car accelerates towards home.


	6. Six

**Happy New Year! I appreciate you all reading and reviewing throughout the holiday season, it's meant so much to continue seeing your kind words! Thank you, as always, to ASadAir for being such an insightful beta.**

* * *

At least, some things remained the same during Dan's brief stint in Vegas. He returns to his office Monday morning to see everything is in its usual and rightful place – the stapler in the upper left desk corner, the globe-shaped paperweight holding down his in-tray, and an idling laptop. In fact, there are zero reminders of the night that changed everything. Well, except for the little dot on his digital calendar marking the noon appointment at the lawyer's office.

While he was away, it seems a pile of unread emails had taken up residence in his inbox. He tackles them, one by one, and feels a flicker of surprise when the ping of his phone breaks his momentum. Glancing at the clock, he sees it's only fifteen minutes until the lawyer's appointment. Blair's warning rings out in his mind: _don't be late._

He shuts his laptop with a flourish and stands, brushing any wrinkles out of his suit trousers. As he heads down the block toward the subway station, a strange sensation materializes in his gut. The thought of seeing Blair again makes him feel a wash of emotion. Like dread. Or is it anticipation? Or perhaps it's something else he'd rather not name…

Dan fails to identify the feeling by the time the train has skittered to a halt and he lets out a breath instead. Feeling slightly calmer, he swiftly and confidently pulls open the grand doors to the corporate offices once he finally arrives.

"You're on time," Blair announces when he walks inside the lobby, sounding surprised. She's just come from the office too, judging by her blazer and pencil skirt. She turns away toward the elevator and presses the up button.

"How are you?" Dan tries to make polite conversation as they step into the elevator. Blair seems to ignore his question.

"My stepfather called me yesterday, sans approval from my mother, and said the annulment should be straightforward." She presses on, matter-of-factly. "As long as we both confirm we weren't in the correct frame of mind to consent to marriage and agree to annulment, the marriage will be dissolved as soon as a judge signs off."

"That's great," Dan says uneasily. Hearing how easy it is should bring him relief but something about seeing a divorce lawyer is still making his skin prickle. The elevator arrives at their floor and Blair leads the way toward the office of one Preston Sullivan.

Once they are seated, Blair calmly explains their situation and Mr. Sullivan doesn't even flinch at the sordid tale. Dan merely sits beside her, watching her tackle this meeting as though it's as simple as arranging a flower delivery or ordering a cake.

"Look," Mr. Sullivan steeples his fingers. "This should be fairly easy. You both were far too inebriated to acknowledge the ramifications of marriage at the time of the nuptials. All we really need today is to go through some paperwork. Eventually, you'll need to appear before a judge who will likely sign off on the marriage dissolution with no issue. I do need to make you aware, though, that an annulment will prove that the marriage was not legally valid but it will still remain on record in the state of New York."

Blair looks stricken at this. "On record? Why?"

"Because," Exhaustion takes hold on Mr. Sullivan's face as he explains. It seems he's already checked out and is mentally planning for his next client's appointment. "That is way in which the law was written."

He pulls out a stack of papers and pushes them forward. "Now if you'll get started on these..."

By the end of the appointment, Dan and Blair have a court appointment for Thursday, a supposed stroke of luck according to Mr. Sullivan. But for them, it means what they thought would be a 72-hour marriage will now amount to 6 days. Perhaps even a week, once the processing period is factored in.

Both of them seem to still be processing this information as they wait in silence for the elevator to arrive. In the reflective surface of the closed shaft doors, Dan can see that Blair's expression mirrored his own: a look of dismay painted across her features, she stared blankly ahead, unseeing.

The elevator arrives and Dan finally admits to himself that maybe this marriage won't be a miniscule blip after all...

"How's the lovely missus?" Rufus asks when he calls Dan later that night.

"Still legally my spouse until the end of the week, apparently." Dan fills him in on this morning's appointment with the lawyer.

"You're sure you still want an annulment?" Rufus asks. "Because son, I can tell you, marrying the same girl twice might sound romantic but you'll be spending a lot more than 7 days awaiting legal updates. If your mother and I would have just stuck it out the first time around, we would have saved a lot of money and time spent in court."

"Dad, Mom wasn't just some random girl you met in Vegas and married on a whim, no, wait, a dare." Dan pauses in horror. "Or was she? I just realized I don't actually know that not to be true so-"

Rufus laughs heartily. "No, Dan. But I'm just saying this Blair sounds kind of great. Jenny Googled her and apparently her mom is some famous designer. Maybe she could even line Jenny up with a job…"

"Dad," Dan is growing frustrated. "I'm not going to stay married to Blair so Jenny can work for her mother. That's absurd. And hardly romantic."

"Okay, okay," His father drops the subject. Instead, he rattles on about the rest of the family's considerably less wild weekend in Vegas. Apparently, the three of them had spent their Saturday night at Cirque du Soleil and had missed him very much. Dan barely listens, though, because his father's ridiculous idea has warped his logical thinking and planted the seed of, what if?

Dan can just picture Blair's reaction to even the very notion of staying married. That icy expression would take hold on her face and she would stare at him like he's a complete idiot. Then, she'd phone up Mr. Sullivan and say the grounds of annulment should be changed to let the record show she had married someone mentally unstable.

Hell, he's questioning his own sanity just from this very thought bubble.

He promptly bursts it, reminding himself that Blair Waldorf is his past, not his future.

Or she will be, in seven days time.


	7. Seven

**AN: Notes at the end. Story beta'd by the wonderful, ASadAir.**

* * *

Blair puts on her most composed and sophisticated outfit for the court hearing on Thursday. She feels it's the very least she can do to assert the fact that she is a respectable young woman, even if today she must publicly admit that she was idiotic enough to get plastered and marry a stranger in Vegas. If her pressed sheath dress with its monochromatic grid patterning can make it clear just how uncharacteristic her actions from that night were, well, she will at least be a little less anxious.

Arriving to court Blair finds that apparently Dan thought otherwise and has shown up in a flannel shirt and jeans. Dark jeans, but still, _jeans_. And those wretched Chelsea boots. Blair pointedly eyes him from head to toe and says, "That's what you wore to work today?"

"I'm working from home today," Dan doesn't even bother to reassess his outfit choice and instead makes his way toward the doors.

Blair wants to make some comment about how relieved she feels about their ending annulment but it sounds harsh, even in her head. So instead, she just quietly follows him into the courthouse. Thankfully, their lawyer does most of the talking and Blair and Dan only must respond when prompted.

It's shockingly effortless and by the time they've exited the courthouse, they're no longer married. Well, technically, they are for one more day, but what do 24 hours count? Somehow, Blair feels more overwhelmed than before as she exited the courthouse. She had presumed some invisible weight would be lifted from her shoulders from her return to singlehood. Instead, the internal shreds of disquiet stubbornly hang on as she shakes her lawyer's hand just outside the courthouse. Dan follows suit, bidding Mr. Sullivan a polite goodbye, and then the two watch him walk away. A thought suddenly occurs to Blair, one that makes those very uneasy shreds come together to form a full thread of unease.

This is the end.

The end of this peculiar, tenuous relationship she formed with a man she didn't even know existed a week ago.

Her eyes drift over to where Dan stands just a couple feet away and she sees he's watching Mr. Sullivan climb into his town car. There's something on his face too that looks nothing like relief.

But then, Dan is walking down the steps toward the sidewalk and she's following him.

"I was thinking," Blair blurts suddenly as they descend the infinite stairs. "Maybe we should exchange numbers in case any other legal issues arise. You know, if our annulment paperwork gets misfiled or-"

She struggles to think of another reason for needing his contact information. If she had prepared this, she wouldn't sound so flustered. She should have asked for it back at the airport when it had made sense to obtain it. But then, she had been firmly rooted in denial and the last thing she wanted to do was add "Dan Humphrey. Husband." in her contact list. She's floundering now, though.

Luckily, Dan seems not to question this random suggestion and sagely nods.

"Seems like a good idea," He pauses, halfway down the stairs, and Blair does the same. He offers his phone and she gives hers, each typing in their own information. Their fingers graze as they return their respective devices and Blair leads the way back down the steps.

She can breathe a little easier, now.

"Well," Dan says as he faces her on the sidewalk, the sun beating down on them. As they stare at each other, unspeaking, she is suddenly drawn to the various hues of his brown eyes, accentuated in the mid-afternoon light. She is so transfixed by the splashes of topaz and grey she finds and the feeling of comfort they bring that she misses the fact that their eyes have been locked for slightly too long.

Suddenly, Dan clears his throat and looks at her wryly. "It's been nice being married to you."

"It's been nice _not_ being married to you," Blair corrects before elaborating. "Since it's annulled, it technically didn't happen."

Dan nods in agreement and offers his hand, "Let's _not_ do it again, sometime."

Blair takes his hand and shakes it, letting their grips linger for just a moment before she finally lets go. Then, she turns and heads in the opposite direction towards her office and begins to let Dan Humphrey and the memory of their fleeting marriage fade away.

She tries her best not to acknowledge the tiny prickle of sadness right in the center of her heart.

* * *

 _ **Two months later.**_

Sitting in the top drawer of Blair's nightstand is the ring she wore for 24-hours betrothing her to a man she now never thinks about. Except occasionally, like when an engagement ring ad plays on the TV and her mind flickers to the memory of him sliding a ring on her own finger. Or when she sees a copy of _W_ on the newsstand, almost reaching for it to scan the masthead for his name. Or even when she spots a law office, a tiny pang of regret at the sight. Or sometimes at the very sight of Cyrus, since he almost annulled their marriage for them.

Okay, maybe that one is a bit of a stretch and she thinks about Dan Humphrey, well, with the merest of reminders.

And perhaps she's hovered over his name in her Contacts list a time or two. But she won't use that number, she knows that by now and she might as well delete it from her contact list. She received the confirmation of their annulment in the mail a week after the court date. So clearly no legal issues had arisen that would require contacting him.

But each time she's tried to delete his information, she's found some reason to put it off.

Blair has taken to blaming the holiday season for inducing thoughts of him. It's this time of year that people get lonely, she tells herself. Commercials of happy couples giving each other gifts can do that. Everyone would think of their ex, or rather _non_ -husband, at this time of year, no matter how fleeting the marriage.

Adding insult to injury was the fact that her father would not be attending her mother's annual Thanksgiving dinner this year. Thanksgiving was _their_ holiday and the prospect of not spending the day making pumpkin pies with him and going ice skating the next day at the Wollman Rink was unfathomable.

"B," Blair vaguely registers Serena's voice as she zones out in the bar. "You should just spend Thanksgiving with us. It'll be fun, just like old times except this time it'll be at my house. Hey, remember that one year we all got so wasted and had that water war in the bathroom?"

"That was only you that was drunk," Blair corrects automatically. "Nate and I were both sober and had to wash the stench of cheap beer off you."

Serena just shrugs and keeps the smile on her face. "You get the idea. We always have the best time, B."

Blair suddenly feels weary and finishes her wine. This conversation is only making her feel worse. "I think I'm going to head home,"

"What?" Serena frowns. "But we've only been out for like an hour. Kati and Isabel are on the way."

"Say hi to them for me," Blair tosses two twenties on the table to cover their drinks and collects her purse. "I'm exhausted. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

Serena's making a pouty face but nods anyway. "You know ever since you got married and then unmarried you haven't been very fun."

The reminder of Dan just makes her want to be home even more. "What can I say?" She manages a sardonic tone. "Marriage ages you. You'll find out for yourself someday."

"Goodnight, B!" Serena calls after her as she walks out of the intimate, dimly lit bar. On the street, she lingers for a moment before dialing her driver. Perhaps, she stood up too quickly because the wine seems to be rushing to her head and she's struck by what's simultaneously the most terrible and wonderful idea.

Before she can rethink it and acknowledge how ill-advised it is, she pulls up the number she's wanted to dial so many times before and presses the Call button. It rings three times before he picks up with a staticky hello. There's noise in the background and she fears she's made a grave mistake but she presses on.

"Hi."

"Blair?" Dan's tone is tentative. "You know this Dan you called right, Dan Humphrey. Who you-"

"Married in Vegas, yes, I am well aware of who you are." Blair replies crisply. "I don't call people unintentionally."

"Oh," The background noise suddenly quiets and she wonders if he's stepped outside of somewhere.

There's a slight pause before she manages to carry on with her proposition. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"I don't know," He answers skeptically. "Jenny is spending it in the city with her friend Elise's family and my parents will be in Hudson with my grandparents. So I haven't decided… Why?"

His response pleases Blair and she thinks, maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. "I never told my mother that we had the marriage annulled. So I thought maybe you could come and be like the world's most nightmarish husband. It'll make her realize what a terrible parenting move abandoning me when I needed her was."

"You didn't tell your parents you had the marriage annulled?" Dan is incredulous. "Don't they wonder why they haven't met me? And why we don't live together?"

"I told them we weren't ready to move in together yet. And that it was too soon for them to meet you. I wanted to have my options open." Blair decides to elaborate. "I was actually thinking I could tell them you ran off with another woman in a couple months when they finally became skeptical of not having seen evidence of you. But I like this new idea better."

"Which is that I show up to the Waldorf family Thanksgiving and ruin it by being a terrible husband?" Dan echoes in disbelief.

"Exactly, so you're on board?" Blair steps back from the curb to let a couple pass by on the sidewalk.

Dan takes so long to respond that Blair thinks the call has cut out. She checks the screen and sees they're still connected. He finally says, "I'll come to Thanksgiving but I refuse to be a bad guest."

"Ugh," Blair tries to sound annoyed even though there's a shiver of delight running over her. "Can you at least be mildly unpleasant? Or insult the table setting?"

"No," Dan won't budge. "But I'll call your mother by her first name without being prompted, how about that?"

"Deal," A bright smile crosses Blair's face. "I'll text you the address."

"I'll see you Thursday, I guess." Dan says in response. "And uh, Blair?"

"Yes?" She taps her phone idly, eager to hear what he'll say next.

"It'll be good to see you again."

A ripple of happiness pulses through her as she hangs up the phone.

* * *

 **TBC...**

 **As you all can probably tell by now, the handshake scene in 4x17 will always be my favorite Dair moment and I take any and all opportunities to rope in their signature "Let's not do it again sometime."**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	8. Eight

**It's Thanksgiving at the Waldorf's so schemes are in order...**

 **Beta'd by ASadAir**

* * *

Dan can't quite admit to his family that he's spending Thanksgiving with the girl he spontaneously married in Vegas two months ago. So instead, he fibs, saying he's spending it at a friend's, though he wonders to himself how deceitful that statement is. Who was Blair Waldorf to him, aside from her esteemed title of "ex-wife"?

Blair has sent him instructions to dress in his most "hipsterish" ensemble and to leave his hair "as unruly as possible." She also went so far as to suggest wearing a t-shirt with a hole in it and said that his raw-edge one would work if he "could not locate most of his raggedy wardrobe". Dan scoffed at this; he could practically see her sitting in her UES apartment, nestled into her throne of a chaise, chin upturned, commanding her army of servants with a flick of her finger while listing out her demands at Dan over the phone. He half expected to receive a PDF of a dressing guide in his inbox the day after their call.

The advice made him a tiny bit self-conscious, he hadn't ever thought she paid that much attention to what he wore in the week they had known each other. In the end, he only selectively heeds her advice, layering a blazer over the t-shirt she suggested but taming his "unruly" curls with some hair product before realizing he was under strict instructions not to. He contemplates how she'll react to this act of rebellion.

When her name had popped up on his phone earlier in the week, he didn't truly expect her to be at the other end of the line. He figured it was an accidental dial or perhaps another one of her signature ruses. But hearing her voice, firm and purposeful, gave him a bubble of hope he didn't quite want to let rise.

When she had asked him to Thanksgiving, he realized it was a ridiculous notion to ever expect to forget about her. He told himself he only said yes because Blair wasn't the type of person you could say no to. But a small part of his conscious knew that wasn't true. He had wondered about her frequently in the past two months. Even idly thinking of reaching out to her, but always backing out before the desire to see her again could truly take hold.

So instead, he had let himself believe she could be left behind in the past.

And now, he was on a Manhattan-bound subway to meet her family. He glances down at the Thanksgiving-themed bouquet of flowers he bought at the organic market down the street from his loft. Blair will probably hate it, if not solely for the fact that an unthoughtful guest would arrive empty-handed.

Sure enough, he is met with a scowl for a greeting as he steps out of the penthouse elevator. He, in turn, registers that she looks beautiful in her gold-flecked top and pleated skirt. She steps forward and admonishes him in hushed tones. "Hello, did you not pay attention during our chat? Bringing flowers hardly screams neglectful husband."

Blair suddenly retrieves a small object from her pocket and proffers her hand. Her palm reveals a silver ring that judging by her expectant face, he's supposed to wear. He now notices that the rose gold diamond eternity band is back on her ring finger and he wonders how far exactly she's taken this ruse. If he were more brazen, he would slide the ring up to see if there's a tan line there for an indication that she really has kept this scheme up during the past two months...

Instead, Dan takes the ring, fingers brushing against her soft palm and slips it on his finger as footsteps echo down the hallway.

"Blair," A crisp voice with a haughty lilt drifts into the foyer and is followed by a woman that Dan can only presume is Blair's mother.

Blair snatches the flowers and pastes on a smile, "How thoughtful of you to bring me flowers. Although you know peonies are my favorite," She emphasizes the word "me", before turning to her mother. "Mother, this is Dan, my husband."

The word that he thought he wouldn't hear again ignites a strange twisting sensation in his gut. He outstretches his hand as the sophisticated woman introduces herself as Eleanor Waldorf. "Nice to meet you-"

He catches Blair's eye and notices her rapid gesticulations, visible to only him. Dan takes her hint and drops formalities. "Eleanor."

He watches a tiny flicker of disapproval cross Eleanor's features but then it's gone. "Come inside, Dorota will take your coat. Dorota!"

When the maid appears, she's beaming. "Hello, again Mr. Dan. So good to see you."

"You too," He lets her take his coat. "Thank you."

Blair passes the flowers to Dorota to put in a vase and then turns her attention to her mother.

"Dan and I are going up to my room, Mother. He left behind a jacket when he was here last." Eleanor waves off Blair's excuse and lets them proceed up the stairs.

Dan tries to look like he knows where he's going since he clearly is supposed to have been here before. Once they're upstairs and out of earshot, Dan comments, "Funny, I don't recall leaving a jacket behind on my last imaginary visit."

Blair looks at him wearily and shakes her head, "This way."

She leads him into an elegantly decorated bedroom with portraits of Audrey Hepburn and Marie Antoinette. There's a fireplace adjacent to the bed and a chaise lounge in one corner.

"My mother and Cyrus closed escrow on a house in Gramercy Park a few months ago." She explains. "So this is mine now and I suppose this is probably the last Thanksgiving we will have in this house."

"Your parents have two houses?" Dan feels his eyes widen.

"My mother does," Blair nods. "My dad just has the one in the French countryside. It's on a vineyard though."

She says this all as though it's a typical run-of-the-mill humble abode complete with a golden retriever in the front yard. All Dan can manage to say is, "It's really nice."

Blair sits on the bed and gestures for Dan to do the same. "So as far as my mother and Cyrus know, we spend time together regularly. I told them what you told me in terms of your career and family life. But feel free to embellish with any appalling details you can come up with. Oh, what do you think about living next door to a drug den?"

Her brown eyes are alight with mischief as she thinks of this. Even though it's a ridiculous suggestion, he still finds his chest stirring at the sparkle in her eyes.

"Not good," Dan replies honestly. "You're really set on horrifying your mother, aren't you?"

Blair nods and Dan asks why.

She huffs before answering. "She didn't invite my dad to dinner tonight and lied about it, saying he couldn't make it all the way from France. But he told me himself that she said she wasn't hosting Thanksgiving this year."

Dan scans her face, "You and your dad are close?"

"Yes." Blair replies curtly.

"Does he think you're still married?"

"Oh no, of course not." Blair twists the ring on her finger. "I told him right away when it was annulled. But he and my mother don't talk enough for her to find out the truth."

"Does anyone else think we're still married?" Dan is suddenly curious. He thinks of the line she had given Penelope about embracing married life and speculates if she let all her friends believe they were letting it stick.

"No," Her tone is light. "So don't worry, this won't have permanent ramifications on your dating life if that's what you are thinking. Though, I doubt word would travel all the way to Brooklyn."

"By the way," A thought strikes Dan and he tries to sound detached as he asks his next question. "Has our brief and now defunct marriage affected _your_ dating life as you feared it would?"

He feels Blair's eyes land on him, slightly suspicious. But then they clear, honesty reflected in her brown irises. "No, I haven't gone on any dates since then... So I wouldn't know. You?"

"Me neither," Dan replies sincerely as he tries not to acknowledge a feeling a lot like relief that stirred as soon as she said she hadn't dated anyone recently.

He tries his luck. "So since your mother has never actually met me, you probably could have had anyone pretend to be your fake husband tonight."

"Why make someone _pretend_ to be my fake husband when I could just ask my real husband?" Blair counters. "Besides, that would make this lie a little too extreme."

"But you are lying by having them think we're still married." Dan points out, deflecting the feeling that ignited at her calling him her 'real husband.' "You realize that, right?"

"It's an omission. There's a difference. I'm not a pathological liar." She looks at him expectantly for his understanding.

"You have a strange sense of morality."

Blair seems to like this remark and smiles as she stands. "Let's go back downstairs. Oh, except, wait..."

She suddenly reaches forward with purpose and messes up his hair a bit. Dan frowns, bringing a hand up to his hair reflexively. "Hey, what are you-"

"Your hair looked too neat," Then she shifts his blazer so it's slightly askew and walks towards the mirror above her bedroom fireplace. She undoes a button on her top and presses her lips against a tissue a few times, smudging her crimson lipstick slightly. Next, he watches as she runs a nail against her tights so a snag appears right along the thigh.

"There," She looks contented. "Now it looks like you were just defiling me with my mother right downstairs. Like the improper husband I've painted you as."

Dan is stricken, "What? No, I didn't- I don't want your mother to think that I would do that."

"Well, I do." Blair says firmly with a lift to her brows and a smirk across her face to tell him she doesn't care what he thinks. "Come on."

She takes his hand and doesn't drop it as they march into the kitchen. Her mother is there hovering over a chef. Eleanor turns and surveys them with a grimace. "Blair, darling, it looks like you could use a touch up on your lipstick."

Her disapproving tone clearly satisfies Blair. Her mother walks off into the dining room with a huff of annoyance as Blair says to Dan, "Be right back."

Dorota materializes in front of him and is a welcome reprieve from the seeming battlefront he's stumbled into. "Good you are here. Miss Blair in terrible mood since she find out Mister Waldorf not come for Thanksgiving. But now, she happy."

Dorota gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he stands there mystified. The implication that his presence here has made Blair happier bewilders him. He thought he was just a pawn in her game against her mother, although perhaps that's what Dorota means.

He's probably reading too much into things.

Dinner is filled with even more hostility and tension as Blair's mother makes acute remonstrations at her daughter throughout the feast. Cyrus, her husband, tries to play peacekeeper every so often but inevitably fails as Eleanor comments on everything from the number of carbs on Blair's plate to Blair's alcohol intake. He sees Blair's face fall at one point, a storm brewing in her expressions but as soon as she senses Dan looking at her, it's gone. Still, he reached over and put a hand on hers, thinking if anything it was a husbandly gesture. Blair had stared at their clasped hands before smiling the tiniest bit and emptying her wine glass. The food on her plate, on the other hand, remained mostly uneaten.

When dessert had arrived, her mother had not-so-subtly suggested Blair pass on the whipped cream. Dan had been passing the homemade whipped cream to Blair when this suggestion was made. He hovered the ceramic container in the air, just a moment, before firmly placing the container in front of Blair. Blair, in return, had met her mother's gaze with narrowed eyes and had put a full dollop of whipped cream atop her pumpkin pie. The unsaid words, _fuck off_ , were clear in this gesture.

Watching the ongoing exchanges between mother and daughter, both verbal and nonverbal, had provided clarity to Dan. Before he had thought she was being a bit harsh on her mother with such an elaborate prank but now, he completely understood. So he did his best to be everything Eleanor Waldorf would hate, without being an outright impolite guest.

He decided little gestures would be okay, like passing Blair the basket of rolls with a gentle nudge right after the carbs comment. Or refilling her wine after Eleanor's reminder of the number of calories per glass. Blair didn't need a single one of those comments from her mother and he was perturbed to think that perhaps that was the reason Blair was so thin.

When he had the urge to feel guilty about what Eleanor might think of his behavior, he thought of that troubled look on Blair's face and the stab of regret would pass.

After dessert, Blair suggests that Eleanor show Dan some of her work at Waldorf Designs. Eleanor lights up at this and leads him into the sitting room where a mantle holds some photos from a past Waldorf Designs collection.

"This is from a few years back," Eleanor is saying now as she pulls a silver-framed photo from the center of the mantle. Dan instantly recognizes Serena as he observes the photo. Serena is wearing a poofy strapless dress, standing in front of a studio backdrop. In another shot, it's a sheath dress she's in and she's staring blankly at the camera.

"One of my favorite shoots." Eleanor continues and he feels Blair tense beside him. "Serena just wears the clothing so well."

"Is Serena a professional model?" Dan asks, biting back a skeptical undertone while frowning at the picture.

"No," Eleanor chuckles. "But that girl is a natural. I think she's missed her calling, to be honest."

At this Blair starts to turn away but Dan reaches for her to stay, placing a gentle hand on her back. Then, with his other hand, he picks up a photo with her in it alongside Serena, of course. In the photo, Serena seems to be directing Blair who's mirroring her best friend's pose. There's a bright smile on her face and her eyes crinkle at the corner with happiness.

Dan is firm and honest as he announces. "I like this one best."

"Oh, yes," Eleanor remarks vaguely. "It is quite interesting to see how different the looks are on each of the girls. Serena just really brings the clothing to life."

Dan doesn't miss the note of disapproval towards Blair and he feels her stiffen, slightly. He musters his most pensive expression, one an art snob might sport as he says, "I was going to say the opposite."

Continuing, he keeps his eyes fixed on the photo. "But I suppose I can agree that Serena definitely brings a different quality to the design. On Blair, it's clear the design would attract a highly sophisticated customer. A CEO, perhaps, or a fashion editor. But on Serena, it appeals to the everyday girl, doesn't it? Actually, I think Jenny has a dress just like that orange one Serena's wearing. From Forever 21, I think."

Dan glances over to see Blair staring back at him in awe. Her firmly pressed lips are tugged upward at the corner, as though she's trying to conceal a fit of laughter.

Eleanor, meanwhile, has plucked the photo from his hands and taken on an icy tone, "Hm, that is an… _interesting_ , opinion, Daniel. I think perhaps, Blair, you might consider educating your husband a bit more on fashion. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She strides out of the sitting room and lets the door slam behind her.

A glorious burst of laughter flows from Blair. "Oh… my… God. I can't believe you just compared my mother's design to a Forever 21 dress. I think she's going to go punch something judging by her face. Maybe she'll even fire her chief designer."

At that comment, Dan momentarily wonders if he's gone too far. He lets his hand fall from Blair's back. "Sorry, did I take that too far?"

Blair shakes her head emphatically. "No, not at all. That was exceptional. Truly a masterpiece of a moment."

Reassured, Dan grins at Blair and feigns a nonchalant shrug. "Just doing my best to be the world's worst son-in-law."

"And succeeding at it." The magnitude of the grin Blair gives Dan makes the title completely worth it. She steps forward gently and grazes his cheek with a kiss. "Thank you."

His breath catches and he forces himself to keep his gaze on her face as she pulls back. The serene smile on her lips makes her more beautiful than he thought possible and he's rendered speechless. So he just nods and lets the memory of her lips against his cheek linger a little longer.

* * *

 **TBC...**


	9. Nine

**Thank you to ASadAir for beta'ing :) And thank you all for continuing to read and review, it is truly appreciated!**

 **PS I started working on the final chapter of Pearl Island so I should be updating it soon. Endings are always the trickiest part for me to write but it's about halfway done so fingers crossed I can update it this week or next. Thank you all for your patience!**

* * *

Blair hadn't fully conceived what inviting Dan Humphrey to Thanksgiving might do to their relationship, or lack thereof. When she invited him, she wasn't sure if she would ever see him again after the holiday concluded. It had been more of a short-sighted desire that had prompted her to contact him. One that by the following morning, she had come to doubt.

Until the moment her mother was informed of Dan's invitation to dinner.

"Blair, what if he's a sociopath?" Eleanor's eyes had widened with horror. "I can hardly have him meeting my closest friends and family."

"I don't know, Mother." Blair replied tersely, hiding a smirk. "I guess you should have thought of that before you refused to help me annul the marriage. Actually, I was thinking should we put an announcement in the paper? We don't want any eligible bachelors to come around thinking I'm available when I'm clearly taken."

At this, Blair had clutched her ring-clad left hand over her heart and feigned a wistful expression, as though she was thinking of Dan.

"Oh god," Her mother had looked stricken. "I didn't think you'd be foolish enough to stay married to him."

"Well," Blair had responded coolly. "He's coming to dinner, regardless, so you can judge him for yourself."

The disagreement had stretched on, with Eleanor's cheeks growing pinker and a sheen of sweat appearing on her forehead.

"Darling, you can hardly expect me to host your- your- random Brooklynite of a husband."

"He's family now, Mother." Blair helpfully reminded her. "Your son-in-law actually."

Cyrus had chosen that moment to enter the room and placated Eleanor with a reassuring squeeze of her shoulder. "It's okay, honey. I'm sure he'll be a perfectly nice boy. Blair has great taste."

Blair had felt a little bad lying to good-natured Cyrus, but there was no way she could tell him the truth without him automatically reporting it to her mother. It was practically his duty as her husband. So a secret it stayed – one that paid off after the success that was Thanksgiving dinner.

Now, after all the guests have left and Eleanor and Cyrus have fled for their new home, the penthouse is mostly empty, save for Dan and a hovering Dorota, who is milling about and cleaning.

Standing with his coat in hand, Dan is poised to leave. As they look hesitantly at one another, Blair wonders if he's about to recede into the shadows of her past once more.

"Thank you for having me," Dan says gratefully as he begins to shrug on his coat. "I hope I didn't disappoint too greatly."

"On the contrary," Blair smiles brightly. "I think your presence shall now be imperative at all subsequent holidays: Christmas, New Year's, Easter, and so on. In fact, your own family may begin to worry that you married an alarmingly possessive wife."

"My family knows we had the marriage annulled, remember?" The reminder somehow makes her prickle slightly. But of course, he didn't just go on pretending he was still married to her. He had a life to get on with.

"Right, you come from a normal family without rigorous subterfuge and censure." Blair brushes off the sting with brisk sarcasm as she nods in a practical fashion. "Well, if there's anything I can do for you. I suppose I owe you."

"No," Dan disagrees instantly with a frown.

"Seriously, the marriage was my idea and now I'm making you be my husband again. I can only imagine how I've complicated your life," Blair elaborates, clasping her hands nervously in front of her ribcage. "So if there's anything,"

"Well," Dan looks pensive for a moment. "I suppose there is one thing…"

"Anything," She feels her foolish heart skip at the potential of future plans.

"Tomorrow, you can have a real Brooklyn experience at breakfast with my family." Dan starts speaking more rapidly. "My family isn't even certain that you exist, they think there's no way some girl from the Upper East Side would have married me even if it was on a drunken dare. So if you come, you can prove them wrong."

"Easy," Blair nods confidently. But then, a thought creases her face. "Except for the Brooklyn part..."

Dan laughs as though predicting this reply, "It's not so bad. I promise."

"That remains to be seen," Blair replies neutrally. "I'll let you know my verdict after breakfast."

"I await your decision with great eagerness." Dan smiles wryly then makes a move to leave, "I'll see you tomorrow then, at ten. I'll text you the address. Thanks again, Blair. I had a good time."

"Me too." Blair finds herself agreeing in spite of herself.

The sleek black family town car keeps her safe from the perils of Brooklyn as it speedily cuts through the boroughs to arrive at the Humphrey's by ten. Instead of feeling dread as the car pulls up, as would normally be present when she was subjected to the environment of Williamsburg, Blair feels a flurry of excitement in her chest.

At breakfast with the Humphrey's Blair gleans much information about Dan and his family. She learns that Rufus, Dan's father, seems to have some sort of affinity for waffles, that Alison seems to be trying her best to be maternal yet every so often her true priority, art, shines through, and Jenny adores fashion and therefore idolizes Blair.

The latter pleases Blair immensely. She always did excel at being a role model of sorts. So much so that throughout the morning, she routinely tells Dan that he stripped her of having the sister she always wanted by letting their marriage be annulled.

Jenny's adoration of Blair to be charming. She's vaguely reminded of high school when the minions would all seek her approval. Except with Jenny, there's less of a hierarchy to it and it feels natural and right. Like her advice might just help this girl head in the right direction.

She takes the time to listen to Jenny's ambitious aspirations and feels Dan watching them with interest. Blair briefly wonders if she is wrongfooted in this; she didn't ask how she should act around them, but then he thanks her later for being so patient with her sister and apologizes for her being "obsessive." Blair waves off his concerns and feels a flicker of delight at being transported to this realm in which families are nice to one another.

After the waffles have all been eaten and the little Brooklyn loft is cleared of syrupy plates, Blair starts to wonder if she should leave. She's sitting on the barstool, watching Jenny retreat into her bedroom "to text Elise"- a ruse Blair sees through immediately when Dan comes to stand in front of her. "I have an idea."

Blair humors him. "And what would that be?"

"You and I clearly have a similar taste in film," Dan begins and Blair nods along. "So I thought I could show you that Brooklyn houses one of the best theaters. It's just a few blocks from here and there's a Sundance nominee showing in the next hour."

"Your parents won't mind?" Blair looks over to where they are doing the dishes in the kitchen. Rufus is drying a plate while Alison scrubs the waffle iron. They do look rather content and their gazes are decidedly not on Dan and Blair.

"Not at all," Dan offers his hand to help her off the bar stool and Blair rises to her feet.

"Sure, then." Blair concedes without giving it another thought. The company of Dan Humphrey is far preferable to that of an empty penthouse, even if it does mean spending the entire day in Brooklyn. Dan informs his parents of their plans and they set down the dishes to come say goodbye.

"We hope we see you again soon, Blair." Rufus hugs her warmly in a way that reminds her of how much she misses her own dad.

The memory sparks her to honestly reply, "So do I."

Blair and Dan amble toward the theater, arriving with plenty of time to spare. She fights the urge to ask him if he thinks his family truly liked her. She has to remind herself that it doesn't matter if they did or not because she's not his actual wife, or girlfriend, or anything more than a stranger he was once legally bound to.

"Do you think you'll ever do it again?" Dan's question breaks her thoughts.

"Do what again?" She asks hesitantly. Has he been talking for a while without her noticing?

"Sorry," Dan confirms that his question indeed came out of the blue with no preamble. "Get married again?"

"Oh," Blair's brows knit together, pensively. "I hadn't thought about it… I mean, I would assume so. But then again, life doesn't always go according to plan, does it? I thought I would be married to Nate by now and clearly, that didn't happen. So I guess my answer would be… I hope so."

After a stretch of contemplative silence, she returns the question. "And you?"

"Same as you, I suppose. I hope so, too." He meets her eye as he answers and she feels a peculiar twinge that's so strong she has to look away.

But before she sharply averted her gaze, she thinks that maybe she saw a hint of what she was feeling reflected in his eyes.

As they reach the theater, Blair no longer has the anticipatory sense of something ending as she did at Thanksgiving. Instead, the exhilarating feeling of a new beginning takes hold.


	10. Ten

A movie date- it's somehow tremendously surreal yet entirely normal much to Dan's surprise. There isn't some uproar about how heinous Brooklyn theaters are or threats to never make the trek across the bridge again. Instead, quite simply, it's pleasant.

Since their cinema outing, a dynamic strikingly akin to friendship has sparked between Dan and Blair. A familiar feeling strikes him when her name flashes across the screen of his phone as though it belongs there. Gone are false pretenses and excuses for spending time together. Although Dan has his suspicions that pretense might still be at play when it comes to Blair's mother, she's hinted at keeping up the married charade.

But now, Dan can ask her to go to the movies with him or to do anything really, without it being strange in the slightest. Today, for example, they are going to the museum. _Which_ museum exactly has yet to be decided as Blair wants to see the Degas exhibit at the Met while Dan wants to check out the exhibit on typography at the Moma. She'll probably win the debate, he does find it quite hard to say no to her. But despite his tendency to give in to her wishes, he's still holding out hope to spend his afternoon debating the merits of serif and sans serif as exits the subway station.

Dan heads in the direction of her penthouse without glancing at his phone's map, this path has become a familiar route in the past two weeks. She has returned to Brooklyn but he's also come to Manhattan. They seem to have developed an unspoken rule of trading off who's stomping grounds they hang out on. It's what friends do, he thinks, but then again he's not entirely sure that friendship is what they share.

Because every so often he catches himself thinking about her in a way that's decidedly _not_ platonic. He'll wonder what it would be like to inch his hand across the armrest so his palm comes to rest on her smooth skin. Or their eyes will meet across the breakfast table and there's a flash of enchantment in her stare that he's certain is mirrored in his own gaze.

Though, of course, there is the chance this is all a figment of his overly active writer's imagination. Perhaps it's just a symptom of not dating anyone combined with the matter of spending all his time with a girl he found attractive and enticing enough to marry on a whim. In the privacy of his mind, he tells himself it's natural to have thoughts of the... _romantic_ nature about her, every now and then.

Yet, every so often he wonders how long he can keep up the friendship pretense.

The elevator to the penthouse arrives and he steps out, holding a jacket over his arm. Blair seems to have heard its arrival because she's just rounded the stairs and meets him at the last step. His heart does a swoop as she smiles in greeting.

"I hope you're prepared to concede." Her eyes glint devilishly. "I Googled this ' _typography'_ exhibit of yours and it sounds positively hipster. I simply refuse to be a part of the movement that brought upon us a dozen businesses with an ampersand in their name, or in some cases, serving _as_ their name."

"The works aren't all modern," Dan counters, following her into the hallway where her coat and purse hangs on a neat rack. "There are works dating back to the 1900s. I thought you liked history."

"That was only a century ago." Blair slips her crossbody bag over her shoulder. "I am sticking firmly with my Degas vote. But we can deliberate further as we walk, I have quite the argument in favor of the Met."

Dan follows her into the elevator and listens as Blair begins her pro-Degas speech. By the time they have reached the sidewalk outside, his suspicions from earlier are confirmed; she'll win this battle. "Want to cut through the park?"

Blair nods and they head west.

"Your turn," She instructs him to give his own impassioned pro-Moma speech as they reach the green stretch of trees.

Dan nods, takes in a breath, and begins.

"Typography is an art form really, a medium that's-" As Dan attempts to beseech Blair he's halted by her suddenly stilling, by the pond. He falls silent as he follows her stare.

Her line of eyesight leads his gaze toward a familiar blonde head leaned back in a fit of laughter. The honey-colored locks Blair once said always shimmer in the sun, indeed shimmer despite the cloudy skies. He'd know that wheatish mane anywhere as she clearly would too.

He frowns, needing confirmation. "Is that-"

"Serena," Blair finishes with a glower.

"Are you two on the outs or something?" Dan is confused because he thought she said she had decided not to hold a grudge about the marriage dare. But he notices now, that it's a guy who's joke Serena apparently laughing at. And Blair is looking between them with envious eyes.

"That's Nate." Blair's quiet voice sounds surprised and hurt, all at once.

Dan observes the man sitting beside Serena and sees how very expected he is. He's exactly the type of guy he pictured when Blair spoke of her beloved ex-boyfriend, Nate. Fresh out of a catalog with his crisp button-down shirt and summery chinos.

A bitter flash of a feeling eerily like jealousy pricks Dan and he shoves it down, trying to be a good friend. He pulls Blair gently by the elbow. "Come on, we'll take the streets."

"No," Blair counters suddenly and starts marching toward the pair, shaking off his grip.

Dan has no choice but to follow and once they're close enough, he sees that Nate's arm is wrapped around Serena's shoulders while her hand rests on his knee. With the way Blair is looking at this intimacy, he wonders if he should hold her back before she does something to harm them physically. This sun-soaked afternoon might quickly be dampered by the cloud of Blair's rage. In fact, there are plenty of jagged twigs adorning the dirt path that could be used to scrape up Serena's pretty face.

"Hello," Blair says, startling the gilded duo with her icy presence. "How funny to run into you both..."

The way she says it makes it clear she doesn't find it amusing in the slightest. Dan awkwardly shuffles his draped jacket from one arm to the other as he looks between the trio.

"Blair!" Serena beams, clearly missing Blair's body language. Her indigo eyes clearly sparkle with happiness at the coincidence of it all. Then, Serena's gaze drifts over to Dan. "And Dan?"

Dan doesn't miss the quizzical tone to her question.

Nate, missing the tension-fraught atmosphere, smiles and stands. It's a toothpaste-commercial white smile that indeed proves he belongs in the preppiest of preppy catalogs. J. Crew? No, Brooks Brothers, Dan decides. "Hey Blair,"

" _Natie_ ," Serena says in an intimate way that seems to ignite Blair's anger further. "This is Dan, the guy Blair married in Vegas."

Serena enunciates Dan so forcefully Dan can't help but reel back slightly. Serena makes it sound far more sinful than it actually was, especially considering the fact that it was her orchestration that resulted in the whole affair.

"You told him?" Blair asks in an incredulous whisper that's not low enough for Dan to miss. The note of embarrassment in her voice tinges Dan with unease. He glances around, wondering if he should flee this tableau.

"Of course," Serena's pink glossed lips curl with false sweetness. "It's not like it was a secret, was it?"

"Nate." Nate steps forward and offers his hand to Dan, clearly ignoring the girls bickering. Dan shakes it firmly and offers up his own name, then shoves his hand back in his pocket awkwardly.

"So what are you two up to?" Serena glances at them again with inquisitive eyes.

"I should ask you that." Blair counters giving her best friend a pointed look.

"Oh," Serena has the good sense to look abashed. "We were just stopping to enjoy the good weather. But now we're off to get burgers at Gotham. You guys should totally come!"

Dan knows for a fact those 'burgers' come part of a prix fix priced at fifty dollars. He prays he doesn't half to drop that much cash, pre-tax and tip, just to endure more of this never-ending battle between the frenemies.

Serena's friendly offer luckily doesn't placate Blair who replies primly. "No, thank you. We're off to the Moma."

"The Met, actually." Dan says and sets a hand on Blair's lower back. He feels her sink into his touch and the feeling incites a flare from somewhere within. "We should probably get going before the exhibit gets too packed. Degas always draws a large crowd."

Blair looks over at him with a softened expression aglow with gratitude. "He's right, we have to go. Good to see you."

Blair takes off before the two can fit anything more than a hurried goodbye in and Dan's hand drops from her back as she breaks into a brisk walk.

She releases an angry sounded breath as they round the corner of the pond and finally flee from the sight of Nate and Serena. Dan brings a hand up to her arm to get her to slow down and she obeys, coming to a half-stop.

"Are you okay?" Dan watches her in consternation taking in her contorted features. "We can go skip the museum if you want."

"No," Blair replies quickly. "I am sorry. I didn't know they were dating and it caught me off guard. I should have known though…" She shakes her head, as though she's a fool. He feels another pang of worry. "Let's go see your typography thing, the hipsters will be a welcome distraction."

"You mean the ballerinas?" Dan smiles. "Because we're seeing the Degas. Come on," He catches her by the hand and leads her in the direction of the Met.

An exasperated breath escapes her. "You don't have to pity-accompany me to the Met. I thought you just said that for Nate and Serena's benefit." Blair protests, trying to wriggle free to guide him in the opposite direction.

"I decided I am woefully uneducated on Impressionists of the 1870s and could learn a thing or two." Dan replies in a serious tone.

Blair seems amused and finally nods. "Fine, _fine_. I'll play along but don't think I don't know the real reason you're agreeing to this."

Her hand remains in his as she dutifully strides in sync with him toward the museum. It's then as she's staring straight ahead with that self-assured woeful expression that Dan realizes she doesn't know the real reason at all.

And he finally does.

* * *

 **TBC... in Blair's POV!**

 **PS In case you missed it, I finally updated Pearl Island with a new chapter :) I've also gotten some questions on what will be next after these two stories and I can say that I do have another multi-chapter fic in the works. It's much different than any of my others so I'm working hard to make it publishable. We'll see what you all think once I've finished up my other stories!**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**


	11. Eleven

**Thank you to the wonderful ASadAir for beta-ing! I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter :)**

* * *

Blair discreetly studies Dan's face during most of the time they spend at the Met, trying to figure out just how miserable he is. The image of his pitying expression as he conceded the battle of the museums is still playing on a loop through her mind. But the fact is, he doesn't look miserable. Not even for a nanosecond. Instead, he peers thoughtfully at each Degas painting and even reads each informative placard on the wall. When it's time to leave, he sounds genuine when he said he enjoyed seeing the display.

 _He's just a good actor_ , she tells herself.

Blair suggests they go back to her place. Dorota was baking something when they left and will probably have whipped up a patisserie's share of confections by now. Dan obliges her and as they walk back to her apartment, they talk about anything but the incident in the park. It's an unspoken agreement that they won't speak of how picturesque Serena and Nate looked together, nor how unexpected and unsettling the revelation of their coupling was for Blair. Dan understands her in a way that doesn't require words.

These past couple of weeks, she's grown to know Dan in that same way, so much so that it's very peculiar to think how a few months ago he was just some stranger at bar with a book, some stranger who she couldn't wait to get unentangled from post-marriage.

The flickers of gratitude for him no longer being a stranger come every now and then, increasing in frequency as his presence fills her with warmth and comfort. Like today, when he could have easily made a big deal about what a good sport he was being- sacrificing seeing the limited-time typography exhibit. But he didn't. He just feigned genuine interest in Impressionist artwork. There had also been the moment when his hand had sent shivers up her spine and throughout her body as he led her away from the new golden couple. It was such an intimate gesture, but there was nothing strange or stiff about it as she eased into his touch. It simply felt right.

She knew she needed to be careful, it had begun to feel like she was treading a dangerous route with him. One misstep and he might catch on to the fact that she had begun to want something more from their friendship. Considering that the last time she shifted their dynamic had resulted in marriage, she figured it was safer to stay on the platonic path.

The elevator arrives at the penthouse level and they step off to a sweet smell that could rival the Laduree on Madison. Dorota appears, cheeks flour-dusted and eyes bright. "Miss Blair! Perfect timing. I make macarons." That explained the smell, Blair thinks. "I watch recipe on Food Network. Oh and Mister Dan, you must try too!"

Blair laughs and wipes the flour from Dorota's cheeks, feeling revitalized. "That sounds perfect, Dorota. Thank you,"

"I just go wash off." Dorota makes a motion at her messy attire. "The macarons are on plate in kitchen."

"Thanks, Dorota." Dan says politely before Dorota walks away.

Blair climbs onto a barstool once in the kitchen and Dan sits beside her. She stares contemplatively at the array of colors before her. Finally, she selects a blackberry one. Dan takes a pale yellow one that looks like the color of the waffles his Dad makes. She wonders if that was why he chose it but she doesn't ask.

"Blair," Dan's voice is tentative as he turns the blonde macaron over and over in his hand.

"Yes?" She looks at him with inquisitive eyes, her own violet-speckled macaron still uneaten.

"Are you still in love with Nate?" The question makes Blair drop her macaron back on the plate. Crumbs scatter around the poor pastry, now slightly cracked and crumbled.

"I'm not judging you, if you are." Dan adds, rather quickly. "I am just curious."

Blair frowns at his question, baffled. "No, why?"

"Well, I saw- I mean, I know that it was hard today. Earlier in the park," He stumbles over his words before tacking on an unnecessary clarification. _So much for the unspoken agreement_ , Blair thinks. He continues, "I know Serena betrayed you, I just wondered if that was all there was to it."

Blair lets out a breath and picks up the pastry once more, sighing as she breaks the pretty purple circle along its faultline. "It was Serena who upset me, not Nate."

Blair takes a bite as she tries to think of how to explain it. "Serena gets everything she wants, always. Our whole lives it's been that way. My boyfriend, my dream school, even my mother in a way with the way she fawns over Serena. I just get sick of the sun always shining upon princess Serena. I'll always be in her shadow." Feeling suddenly whiny and self-conscious, she hastily adds. "That sounds petty and immature, I know."

"It doesn't," Dan sets his macaron down, where hers just rested on the dessert plate. He reaches over and sets his hand on her forearm. The gesture makes her stomach flip-flop. "I can understand. But I don't think what you said about Serena is true..."

"What?" Blair stares back, prickling all over with indignation. "Of course it is. It's Serena." She enunciates her best friend's name so forcefully she bites her tongue.

"And you're Blair," Dan says this like it's supposed to mean something. "Blair Waldorf."

"You don't get it," Blair shakes her head. "Yale was my dream school. My entire academic career was spent striving toward an admission. I didn't get it. Serena did... _Serena_ , who was too busy sleeping with her English teacher and snorting cocaine to attend classes. She didn't even take the SATs, she paid someone to take them for her. Yet, Yale still takes her. Everything she has, she's never even worked for. That's just one example, by the way."

Dan seems to contemplate this, but not for very long. He's still adamant in his resolve.

"Some of us have to go after what we want but doesn't that make it more satisfying, when you finally get everything you've ever wanted? Look, Blair, Serena's hair may glimmer in the sun, she might be eternally blessed with golden skin, and maybe good fortune does follow her, but so what? You shouldn't let her luck diminish your value. She can only make you less bright and shining if you let her. Stop granting her that permission."

When Blair just blinks, Dan continues with more fervor. "You're easily the most impressive person I've ever met. When I told my dad I got married in Vegas, he asked me to who. I told him everything I had learned about you and the first thing he said was that I was an idiot for planning to have it annulled."

"It was somewhat idiotic of you," Blair manages a smile, keeping her tone light and teasing to mask the sudden emotion she's feeling. "I am pretty incredible."

Despite her sarcasm, Dan nods. "Of course you are. You might have to go after what you want, but you're still amazing enough to get it when you do. And no matter how serendipitous Serena's life may be, you're Blair Waldorf and she can never take that away from you. So don't let her make you feel like anything less than what you are. Okay?"

He's gazing at her with an expression she can't quite name but perhaps could be labelled _adoring_. She's left with no choice but to bob her head in understanding.

As their stares stay locked, there's another familiar whirring sensation in her solar plexus and before she can think better of it, she acts on it. She leans forward just enough to capture his lips, her hand resting on his shoulder to steady herself. Her stomach free falls as he hesitates to react and just as she wonders if she's completely misread the situation, his lips respond. He kisses her softer than she's ever been kissed before.

She loses herself in the moment, Serena's sunlit tresses dissolving in her mind, Nate's smile evaporating into nothingness, until Dan is all that's left to think about. All Dan and nothing else. A fragment she can't get out of her mind, just like the very moment she met him. But now he's grown, in all his quiet understanding and overwhelming warmth, rendering her defenseless against his increasingly welcomed presence, until he's completely filled in the crevices of her mind and mended the holes in her heart.

Then, he's pulling back, before the kiss has even had time to evolve into something deeper.

"Blair," Dan starts to say, an expression of consternation on his face. She thinks she sees regret appear on his face. "You're upset about Nate and Serena, I think we shouldn't-"

"I'm not kissing you because I'm upset." Blair contradicts and then she echoes his words from earlier. "I'm going after what I want."

Before he can protest and unnecessarily defend her honor any further, she catches him by the shirt collar and kisses him until he kisses her back. Their lips entwine again and again until he's the furthest thing from a stranger.

Until he feels like _hers_.

"I just want to confirm," Dan says after a few minutes, a note of uncertainty in his tone. Her lips go icy in their separation. "I'm what you want?"

"Yes," Blair exhales, mock exasperation in her tone. "Don't make me have to say it again."

"I just didn't think you wanting me would ever be possible." Dan's fingers play with a stray hair brushing her cheekbone, his other hand resting on her knee. "You remember that day at the courthouse?"

"I do, actually." Blair nods, her tone sardonic. "Surprisingly, I've only had to go the once for an annulment."

"Let me continue," Dan shakes his head, chuckling at her sarcasm. "I had kind of dreaded it, I didn't sleep at all the night before. I thought I was just worried that our motion for annulment wouldn't be approved by the judge. But then I saw you and knew you were the reason I couldn't sleep. I realized then that I didn't want to have annulment approved. I wanted the whole thing to be dragged out, even if it took months or years. But there was nothing I could do… Especially since I was so sure I would never see you again after that day."

"So _you_ made _me_ ask for your phone number, even after realizing that?" Blair chides, teasingly. "I not only approached you at the bar, I also asked you to marry me, and asked for your phone number. Oh and asked you to come to Thanksgiving. Yet. you are still surprised that I want you?"

Dan puts a hand over his forehead, flushing slightly. "When you say it like that I do feel slightly ridiculous. But in my defense, you're a girl from the Upper East Side."

"And you're a boy from Brooklyn," Blair kisses him again with unexpected tenderness. The word Brooklyn should make her tense. But it doesn't. "Somehow I don't hate you. At all."

"Not at all," Dan agrees, letting their lips reconnect. "Hey-"

Blair frowns as he pulls away for the third time. She's growing weary of this _kiss, pause, repeat_ game. "What?"

Dan's expression is very serious as he asks, "Blair Waldorf, will you go on a date with me?"

"Ah," Blair finds her lips curling into a smile. "I thought you'd never ask."

She pauses for effect before giving her answer.

"Yes. Most definitely, yes."

* * *

 **TBC...**

 **One more chapter to go! Thank you for reading!**


	12. Twelve

_**Epilogue.**_

In the silk-lined pocket of his freshly pressed dark navy suit jacket lies a smooth velvet box. Today marks an extraordinary occasion – it is the second anniversary of a woefully misguided wedding that brought together two strangers who might not have ever met under ordinary circumstances. If they had, which Dan supposes is possible, both having lived in the same state, they would have remained perpetual distant acquaintances, connected by nothing save a brief nod acknowledging their mutual existence across a room.

Yet, spouses, they had been, if only for a week.

For their first anniversary, Dan had gifted Blair a vintage snow globe of the city where they first met. To Dan's chagrin, the ornate sterling-silver globe stand was slightly tarnished, but upon noting its imperfections Blair had remarked that only added to its charm. Inside, the city enclosed resembled little of present-day Las Vegas, given the snow globe dated back to 1961. But knowing Blair and her love of the time period in which movies had starred Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant, he figured (correctly it would turn out) that it would make the gift all the more romantic.

It was remarkably easy falling into a relationship with Blair Waldorf, as Dan learned quickly in that first year. Perhaps it was the practice from their short-lived marriage or even the ruse of continued domesticity they put on for her mother during that turbulent Thanksgiving. But either way, things fell into place without turmoil.

Every now and then, Dan had found himself musing over how his life would be had he not agreed to the family trip to Las Vegas. Each time this thought strikes him, he feels a sharp dip in his mood and an urge to reach out, to touch Blair, to hold her. So now, he's decided it's time to demolish that worried feeling of losing her by taking them back to the very institute that had brought them together.

Checking that the box is still there, safely in his pocket, Dan steps away from the foggy mirror of the bedroom. Surveying his chronograph watch, he finds that it's time to head downstairs because Vanya will be waiting. Sure enough, Dan arrives to Vanya leaning against the shiny black car.

Vanya tips his hat at Dan and steps away from the hood of the vehicle to open the back door for him. "You look nervous, Mister Humphrey."

Dan lets out a breath. "This is the first time I'm asking a girl to marry me since technically Blair asked the first time around."

"You do fine," Vanya nods confidently. "Dorota say she and Miss Blair on the way to penthouse. We hurry. Dorota will stall her if necessary. So don't worry."

"Thank you, Vanya," Dan tries to sit back in the leather seat, letting his elbow come to rest on the door. He watches the city pass by as they cross over the bridge and into Manhattan.

A short while later, he's riding the elevator up to the penthouse and feeling his heart race as it makes its slow ascent. He briefly rethinks what he's about to do, fearing she'll say no. Maybe two years isn't long enough. Perhaps Blair will think they're rushing in. But then he remembers the conversation, from long ago, when their eyes had met in a sort of understanding.

 _I hope so._

There it was, the long ago answer to a question he had wondered since the moment the annulment went through: the possibility of a second attempt at marriage.

As his dress shoes echo across the marble floors, he replays that moment, again and again, willing his heart to slow.

It does, it halts in fact, when Blair steps out of the elevator after what feels like an eternity. Her hair is in loose curls and her lips are painted in a shade that reminds him of a raspberry. The very beauty of her reminds him of that first night, at the bar, when he wondered why this impossibly gorgeous girl would ever want to strike up a conversation with him.

Her glossy mouth falls open until curving into a smile. "I thought we were meeting at the restaurant," Her confusion is tinged with something like happiness.

Dan steps closer and they meet halfway in the foyer. He manages to shake his head, knowing that this is the moment. She's waiting for him to explain, mascara-lashed eyes blinking at him in anticipation. "Two years ago,"

He begins and he watches her expression morph into one of disbelieving wonder. As though she's not quite sure, but she is of course, once he takes her hands and draws her in closer.

"The most beautiful girl I had ever seen, sat next to me in a bar. You see, I was just a lonely boy from Brooklyn, suffering from writer's block and searching for a spark of inspiration. Then, came you. Turning in your bar stool, delicately holding your gin and tonic, and looking at me in a way I couldn't quite discern. When you had walked away to go back to your friends, I had the sharpest sense of disappointment but couldn't understand why. I hadn't even spoken to you, not really at least. You were a girl I had known for all of one minute."

Here, Dan smiles, remembering that fluttery feeling that took hold as she sidled up beside him. "You came back and I suddenly understood why I had been so disappointed. From that moment on, I knew I would love you. If not that very moment, then soon. I could feel the possibility of it as the blanket of writer's block was lifted and my vision cleared. Words flowed through me, words I didn't say to you. Instead, I let you lead the way, leading us toward a place that would bind us eternally. I was foolish enough to let you ask me to marry you. But now, Blair,"

Blair's hands tighten on his as her eyes blink rapidly in disbelief. Dan sinks to one knee and retrieves the ring box from his pocket, hands fumbling and struggling to grip it. "I know that you are the spark my life had been missing. I love you, more than I've ever loved anyone or anything, and I want to love you that way for the rest of our lives. Blair Waldorf, will you marry me?"

Her cheeks glisten with freshly fallen tears and her lips have spread into the best smile he has ever seen. She nods fervently and says through a tremulous whisper, "Yes."

The rings slips onto her finger, and he's kissing her. Kissing her like he should have the very moment he met her. Kissing her with the new knowledge and reassurance that they will never be strangers once more.

 _ **End.**_

* * *

 **Thank you so very much to ASadAir for beta-ing this whole story and for making my descriptions far more vivid, my words flow better, and for taking out all the grammatical errors along the way.**

 **I hope you all liked the conclusion to this story! More Dair stories to come soon. Currently working on one set at Yale with a twist on Blair's character so that will be my next multi-chapter fic. In the meantime, I'll finish Pearl Island and perhaps post a one-shot (if time allows.)**

 **Thank you all for reading, means so much! :)**


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